The sun will rise again
by jungkookies
Summary: Kuririn is sick and dying. For the longest time, he has been pushed aside to make room for Goku and the other stronger fighters. Using the dragon balls, he makes a wish that sends him back to his days as a child, starting from Orin Temple. What will Kuririn do differently, especially since he has retained all his powers? And to appease Marron, Pan decides to go after him...
1. Kuririn's dying wish

_**A/N: Ah, hey. I've been a fan of dragon ball and dragon ball z for a long time now and I've never tried my hand at writing fanfiction for the fandom. I absolutely love the franchise but there was always a part of it that irked me and that was how the humans became useless as the fights progressed to cosmic levels. If you didn't have a monkey tail, you dead. I've always loved Kuririn as a character. He's been there since dragon ball and has always stood by Goku's side no matter what, even when he stopped fighting after the Cell Games (marrying 18, growing out his hair and all). I feel that the series has never done Kuririn justice and has never exactly showcased how powerful for a human he is.**_

 _ **This is why in The Sun Will Rise Again, I'm taking Kuririn back in time with all his powers to the start of dragon ball where everything was done at a human level. Realise that Kuririn has been sick for 10 years. He will be significantly weaker than canon. This is done so he won't be completely annihilating everybody. However he will regain his strength as the story progresses...**_

 _ **Enjoy~**_

* * *

Water and sea foam lazily lapped at the shore of Kame Island. In a seemingly endless loop, wave after wave splashed upon the sand, leaving trinkets of shells, and small stones. Said loop went on uninterrupted until a pair of sandals landed gently on the sandbank. The stylish footwear belonged to none other than Marron, unusually stone-faced. Her long blonde hair gently danced to the wind until it violently flew upward, courtesy of a powerful descend.

Marron didn't turn as she addressed the newcomer, "Pan."

Son Pan, dressed in her grandfather's orange gi (resized to fit her petite frame), stepped up to Marron and gave her a sidelong glance. "How many years has it been since then?"

"I try not to think about it" was the only answer the quarter-saiyan received. She frowned sadly. Her blonde friend had changed so much. Marron's outward appearance was very much the same as it had been since she hit puberty: glossy blonde locks, striking onyx orbs and a face that screamed icy coldness; a perfect combination of her parents 18 and Kuririn. But Pan knew better than to only look at what was right in front of her. She might not look it, but Marron had changed. A lot. Though her face was trained to twin 18's frosty expression, once upon a time she had laughed and smiled like any other normal girl. Pan had not seen her eyes twinkle or the corners of her mouth twitch upward for nearly a decade.

"His chi is fading," Marron said softly. "He's trying to hold on. But he can't."

The young woman wasn't looking for an answer so Pan did not deign to give her one. Instead, she focused on what she had said as a greeting, feeling increasingly guilty. The two girls were by no means friends but it did not excuse the young saiyan for her insensitivity. But how many years _had_ it been? How many years had it been since the Kuririn took himself to that fateful doctor's appointment only to be told he would have less than a year to live? It was a surprise, to say the least, for he had been in excellent health. He was 47 when the doctor diagnosed him. He had been told less than a year. But it seemed like he had disagreed. It had been ten. _Ten_ long, agonizing years spent bedridden in the Kame House with only Turtle and Kame-Sen'nin for company. 18 was abroad. Had been since Kuririn was told that he would succumb to the illness that attacked his insides within a year. For the first three years, Kuririn wouldn't stop asking for his wife. He stopped asking in the next seven. It was like he knew better. The thought made Pan's stomach churn and her heart twist in sorrow. But all the same, she could hardly fault the blonde android. They were same in the regard that they lacked the courage to say goodbye.

"Piccolo's coming," Pan said in a lame attempt to change the subject. "He's not too far away now. Grandpa, Vegeta and the others too. And Bulma said she would be coming with Chi Chi in her jetcopter."

"Stop it Pan."

Pan stopped.

Piccolo landed, followed closely by the rest of the Z Senshi. The last to arrive were the non-flyers: Bulma, Chi Chi and Oolong.

"He hangin' on alright?" Bulma ventured cautiously, her blue eyes somber.

"Enough," was Marron's gruff reply. "He's alive anyway."

Goku gently shouldered his way through the crowd. "Let's go in," he suggested. "And say... a proper goodbye." Even the normally carefree Son Goku could not find anything to laugh about this day. There was a 'hmph' from Vegeta and a grave nod from Piccolo as the Z Senshi made their way inside Kame House.

Vegeta muttered something about the house being an abomination as he stepped inside.

"Where are Trunks, Goten and Bra?" Marron inquired coolly. _Not that I could care less._

"Trunks is at a board meeting, Goten flew Paris to Italy for their date and Bra went out shopping with one of her girlfriends," supplied Yamcha. "They'll be here soon enough."

"And the dragon balls?"

"Dende has them," rumbled Piccolo. "We have a telepathic link set up. When Kuririn requests it, Dende shall summon the dragon."

"Good. He... he deserves a last wish."

As everyone waited for the stragglers to arrive, Kame Sen'nin, out of politeness, offered them tea and biscuits. No one, not even Goku and Vegeta, touched them. Goku, for once, simply wasn't hungry and Vegeta was determined not to be outdone in anyway by his rival.

Goku slumped against the couch, the cushion sinking within itself underneath his weight. "I didn't think he'd be going so soon," said Goku. "Always that that I'd be there to meet him. 'Course if he were killed in some way we could bring 'im back..."

"But this is a natural death," finished Kame Sen'nin, his brows furrowing against the rim of his sunglasses.

The Briefs siblings and Goten arrived just as Oolong came down the stairs, saying, "I just checked on the guy, he's awake and askin' for all of ya."

Everyone filed into Kuririn's room, one by one as to not clog up the door frame.

The bald monk grinned weakly at everyone. "Hey." Though the short fighter had grown out his hair since Cell, the disease he had had caused it all to fall off.

Goku grinned back. "Hey."

A small sniff sounded. Bulma.

Marron looked on coldly at the interaction between Goku and Kuririn.

"Thanks for coming," said Kuririn.

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world."

"Yeesh, don't say it like that Goku or it really will be the end of the world," was Yamcha's lame attempt at lightening the mood.

Kuririn closed his eyes. "It's too bad, really. I would have continued to fight along you guys... even if I know that I'm not exactly the strongest."

"You're strong for a human," Goku said earnestly. "The strongest human alive actually."

"Not strong enough. You guys have always outshined me... especially you Goku." The words were so bitter that everyone startled, save for the uncaring Vegeta and neutral Piccolo. Even Marron wasn't immune to her father's harsh words. She blinked, puzzled, before steeling herself again.

"That's 'cause I'm a saiyan - you know that Kuririn. I bet if I were human you'd be stronger than me." His face softened. "Don't think about much stronger I am. It's not strength that makes the man - or the saiyan."

Vegeta looked as if he begged to differ but remained silent.

 _You don't get it, Goku,_ Kuririn thought, frowning slightly as he did so. _You're always the hero. Always the strong one. You've always been the best and come out on top, even when your opponent starts on so much stronger. You always save our butts... and what am I? The sidekick? No wait, I think I was replaced by Vegeta a long time ago since I settled with 18. What am I to you Goku? Best friend yes - but is that all? I've never minded much... I've always been happy with who I am. The sidekick. The ally. The best friend. Hmm. What about the hero? It'd be nice to play hero for once._

While these thoughts transpired, Goku was going on and on about their friendship and the adventures they had in the good old days. His words were genuine and heart felt, but it was obvious to the Z Senshi that Kuririn was hearing none of it. Even when Kame Sen'nin took over and did the same for his old disciple. He gravely spoke of how it pained him to outlive his own student.

Kuririn's chi fluctuated before flickering - slowly dying.

Piccolo sent a message to Dende, signalling him for the summoning of Shenlong. On cue, the sky went dark as if it were night, and on the lookout, Dende stared upward at the mighty serpentine dragon.

 _This is it,_ Marron told herself. _Time to say goodbye to dear old dad. I wonder what he'll wish for. To see mom again? Doubt it._ She bit her lip. _But I don't want to say goodbye._

"Kuririn," said Bulma, stepping forward. "The dragon's ready." A single tear slipped down her cheek as she smiled sadly. "Make a wish."

Goku clasped one calloused hand on Kuririn's shoulder. "See you in the afterlife!" he said as cheerfully as he could with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. Death was something flippantly tossed around among the fighters - after all if you died you could be revived again. But the exception was death by a natural cause. There would be no turning back for this. Kuririn would remain dead forever. The Z Senshi would never see him again until they too passed on.

"I wish," Kuririn started before pausing. _I wish. I wish. What should I wish for?_ He debated wishing for greater strength, but knew that the wish would be useless since he would be dead before long. That and his pride as a martial artist wouldn't allow such a wish to be bestowed. _I wish I had lived a better life. I wish to die in peace. I wish that I wasn't so weak. I wish that I had won at least one Tenkaichi Budokai tournament. I wish Freeza hadn't killed me on Namek. I wish I could see my daughter smile again. I wish, I wish, I wish..._

Kuririn flicked his gaze over to Piccolo and the Namekian nodded before setting up a mental link to the dying warrior. _What's on your mind?_

 _I think I know what I want to wish for._

 _Shoot. Just be sure the dragon's going to be able to grant it._

 _I wanted to wish to see Marron be happy again... but I have one wish. And I think it's time for me to be selfish for once._

Piccolo shifted slightly, ready to rally a message to Dende.

 _I wish that I could have been a hero._

* * *

Up on the Lookout, Dende repeated the wish to Shenlong, not ashamed that he choked on a few syllables as a result of his grief. Not too far away, Mr Popo was openly weeping, albeit silently.

The words circled around Dende's mind. _I wish that I could have been a hero. I wish that I could have been a hero._ The young Namek grimaced. _Oh Kuririn. Don't you know that you're already a hero? A hero to so many people, including Goku?_

Shenlong's eyes gleamed brightly before he spoke, "Your wish has been granted."

"Thank you," said Dende. "We have no need for the other wish as of yet."

"Fare you well." In a burst of light, Shenlong vanished and the dragon balls shot off into the sky as circles of stone.

* * *

In Kame House, everyone was solemn as Kuririn's chi was reduced to a small speck already on the verge of disappearing forever.

Marron grabbed her father's hand and squeezed. He squeezed back weakly. "Don't forget me dad. Mom too."

"I could never forget you two - even if I tried."

That was as much of a goodbye Marron would give and Kuririn knew that. And he was okay with it. He only hoped that things would get better for her soon. She deserved it. She needed it.

As Kuririn closed his eyes, ready for his final return to the Otherworld, his body disappeared with a hiss.

"Kuririn!" Goku exclaimed. "Where did he go? He wasn't dead yet, King Yemma couldn't have taken him! And what about his wish?"

Without waiting for an answer, he dematerialized into light.

* * *

"Gah!" hollered King Kai as Goku appeared right in front of him. His surprised quickly turned into irritation. "Goku! How many times have I told you not to do that?! And get off my plants!"

With a sheepish chuckle, Goku stepped away from said plants rubbing the back of his head nervously. "Sorry about that King Kai, but this is kind of important."

"Important?! What, is the earth in trouble again?"

"Well, not exactly - "

"Then what could possibly be more important that you have to barge in here to squish my prized petunias?!"

"They're very nice," Goku offered lamely. "Look, King Kai, did you see what happened on earth?"

"Goku, I'm in charge of a vast quadrant of the universe, I can't always be watching earth. I'm a busy man."

"You were watering _flowers_."

"I'm quite the gardener," retorted King Kai, even more irked than before. "Anyway, what's up?"

Goku quickly explained the situation to the Kai, who nodded slowly. "You said the dragon was summoned right?"

"Uh huh."

"And he didn't make a wish?"

"Yep."

King Kai tapped his chin. "Welp, I don't know if I can help with the wish thing, but you said Kuririn wasn't dead when he disappeared so it means some force other than King Yemma took him away. You should probably ask Piccolo and Dende, they would know more than me."

"Oh, okay. Thanks King Kai!"

"Wait, Goku, about reviving me - "

Goku was gone.

"Oh forget it..."

* * *

It turned out that Piccolo and Dende did know more about the situation than King Kai. After gathering everyone to the Lookout, Dende informed them about Kuririn's wish.

"We have to wish him back or something!" cried Goku. "Who knows what happened to him if he's not in the Otherworld?"

"He was right on the verge of dying, Kakarot," growled Vegeta. "Which means wherever he he was sent to doesn't matter. He's already dead."

"There's a small chance that he may not be," Bulma said thoughtfully. "But it's highly doubtful..."

"Spit it out, woman."

Bulma twitched, irked, before saying, "Kuririn's wish was that he _could have_ been a hero, right? It's past tense, and you know how the dragon can be particular with words. Frankly, I think it's not a case of _where_ he was sent to, but _when._ "

"It makes sense," said Dende. "And it's the only explanation we have at the moment."

"We have to wish him back," Goku reiterated.

"No."

Everyone turned to Piccolo.

"There was no mistake," he said. "Chances are, Kuririn meant for this to happen."

"What do you mean meant for this?!" shouted Marron, joining in. "Why would my dad wish to be whisked off to a different timeline?"

"Think about it. Think about his wish. He wished he could have been a hero. Think about why he wished for it."

"He felt neglected," Bulma said quietly. "Oh, Kami, why didn't we see it before?"

"That just proves the point," Piccolo said. "Nobody ever bothered to take much notice of his... personal feelings." He turned to Goku. "Son, you've always played hero. I mean, come on, can you blame Kuririn?"

"Kuririn wanted this," Dende added. "It's obvious now. I don't think we should disturb him. We must respect his wish."

Everyone left the Lookout more solemn than ever that day.

* * *

Pan flew as fast as she could after Marron. "Hey! Marron! Wait up!"

Marron showed no indication of slowing down for the younger girl.

With a frustrated grunt, Pan pushed herself to fly even faster. Marron had never been the one to train, how was she so goddamned fast?

Finally, Pan caught up to her and grabbed her shoulder, forcing the girl to turn around. "Marron - " She stopped and was unable to prevent herself from staring at the blonde woman. Two wet twin trails streaked her face. "Uh, Marron..."

"Go," Marron said coldly. "There's nothing you can do for me."

"There must be something. Come on - "

"Shut it. I'm not about to repeat myself. It's not like we're friends anyway."

"But we were! 10 years ago we were!"

"Stop living in the past Pan." And with that, she flew away, not wanting to waste anymore words on the young Son.

"Living in the past my ass," Pan snorted before making up her mind. "If she wants living in the past, she'll get it." The girl smirked deviously. Where did Bulma put her time machine again? _Let's see. Being a hero, hmm? All this started when Kuririn was 13. Which means I'll be going back to... Age 749!_

Marron would never know what hit her when she brought Kuririn back. She wanted to respect Kuririn's wishes but right now Marron's grievance was more important. _I'm coming for you Kuririn! And I'm going to bring you home._

* * *

 ** _A/N: Pan has a plan it seems..._**


	2. In Orin Temple

_**A/N: Howdy. We move on to chapter 2 now! Names of the monks of Orin Temple were never given so I had to do some digging. The Kuri in Kuririn means chesnut so I thought 'hey, let's name these guys after nuts and stuff like that!' and this was the result. Enjoy~**_

* * *

Kuririn awoke to snoring. He grabbed his pillow and wrapped it around his bald head. "Kami... never knew Muten Roshi could snore that loud..." He managed to get a few more minutes of shuteye before he was awoken once again, this time by a deeper, louder snore. "W-what the? That's definitely not Roshi." He sat up in his futon and rubbed his eyes to remove sleep. He was facing a brown wooden wall. That was strange. The Kame House had pink walls, not brown. A loud, choked snore sounded and Kuririn whipped his head to the right to see a skinny monk roll over in his futon.

 _Oh, it's Kurumi. Okay, back to bed..._

He was about to enter the dreamworld again when his eyes snapped open. _Wait, what?! Kurumi? If that's Kurumi then..._

The loud, deep snore echoed through the room. Kuririn's eyes widened. _It-it's Pikan! A-and over to the far left is Rakkasei! And the twins Natto and Shido!_

Before Kuririn could fully wrap his head around it all, the gong signally the arrival of dawn sounded and sleepy groans arose. The monks got up and started preparing for the day.

Kuririn pretended to be asleep for a bit longer as he contemplated what was happening. _I'm back at Orin..._ He looked down at himself, glancing at his chubby hands and short legs. _And it looks like I'm 12 again. Or 13 depending whenever we are now. I never grew much..._ The memories of what had transpired before his little time jump rushed back to him. His eyes widened. _I was dying! I was on my literal deathbed! A-and the wish. Oh, Kami, the wish. Is... is this the result?_ His family pushed themselves to the forefront of his mind. _Oh no. Marron. She's my daughter. What would she think? I left her! I'll never see her again. Not even in the Otherworld. She could still be born in this timeline... but it won't be the same. But... I could give her the chance to be happy. I'll never leave her like I did before. Never again._

He finished his resolved just as Kurumi, the lanky monk, ducked back into the room. "Yo, little Kuririn! Wake up." He held up his fist with a sneer. "Or maybe I should beat you awake?"

"Shut up," snarled Kuririn, getting up. "Don't talk to me like that." His glare was almost a perfect imitation of Vegeta's and Kurumi looked like he was about to wet himself. But the glare apparantly wasn't as effective when it was being practiced by a bald 12 year old with no nose as Kurumi managed to gather his swagger again.

"Oh yeah? And what are _you_ doing to do about it?" He marched up to Kuririn and prodded him roughly in the chest with one finger. It didn't hurt but he felt it. It seemed that Kuririn would have to retrain his body once again. Kurumi smirked. "Tell you what, I'll be nice. We can take it out on the training field instead. Me and Pikan against you and someone else. Good luck finding a sparring partner. Little loser!"

Kuririn seethed after Kurumi but calmed himself before summoning a ball of chi. He cut off the flow of chi before summoning a kienzan. It looked as sharp as ever. _I'm weaker than ever before. I'm stuck in a child's body and I haven't done any proper training for decades. I'm already a bit puffed just summoning that kienzan._

But training could wait, for it was breakfast now. Kuririn grimaced as he wandered down to the mess hall. He had always hated breakfast time. Kurumi and Pikan liked using that time to try and publicly humiliate him. For two veteran monks, they were sure immature. Orin Temple mostly ran itself as a community but it was mostly Kurumi and Pikan that swayed the decisions made. Everyday, it would be mostly the same routine. Breakfast, their only meal for the day; training; chanting; more training and then meditation in the evening before hitting the hay. Then the cycle would repeat itself. It was the same for everyone, except Kuririn. Along with the general routine, Kuririn would also be made to fetch water during intervals. It was a tight time frame; he had to return before the next activity. Kuririn couldn't even imagine how he had managed in the past without his powers.

Thankfully, breakfast passed by without any disturbance until the first interval.

"Hey, short stack!" Pikan called to Kuririn mockingly. "Did you forget? It's time to fetch your pail of water, Jill!"

The entire mess hall burst into laughter like Pikan had said the funniest thing in the world. But Kuririn only walked out with his head held high. Or, well, as high as he could hold it anyway. Kuririn never was a tall person. People were still snickering but Kurumi and Pikan looked slightly dismayed. They had been expecting more of a reaction: something akin to embarrassment and shuffling out as quick as he could without tripping while the hall howled with laughter. When Kurumi reached out to pat Kuririn on the head like he was a little dog, Kuririn caught his wrist.

Kurumi spluttered in surprise before Kuririn let him go. The older monk stared after Kuririn's retreating form in shock. Just when did little Kuririn have such a grip? But never mind, he would pay Kuririn back during training. Kurumi was extremely confident with his own strength and ability. He thought himself the strongest monk in Orin Temple, even stronger than the muscly Pikan. Heck, even Hercule seemed like a modest person compared to Kurumi.

Kuririn smirked as he imagined Kurumi's surprise. He wouldn't openly war against them now. Disputes were settled in training time. Instead, Kuririn focused on the good things, like the exercise he was going to get by collecting water. He would think of it like it was the Muten Roshi's training. It gave him a rush of excitement, and he picked up the large twin pails - strapped across a bamboo stick - and placed the stick upon his shoulders before jogging to the lake.

Kuririn made it to the lake in no time. There would still be plenty of time before morning training sessions began. So he took it upon himself to exercise his body by performing the basic Turtle kata. He needed to get in shape and fast. He suspected he was still 12 at the moment, but turning 13 soon. And when that day came, he would, like in the original timeline, leave the Orin Temple forever. But for now, it was time to train. Eventually, he tapped into his chi reserves again to relearn how to use his chi effectively. He formed three balls of chi and juggled in the air as a form of meditation.

When he had finished, the wind had picked up slightly, causing lake water to lap against the shore. Kuririn smiled. _Just like Kame Island. If only this place wasn't contaminated by those guys... then it'd be perfect. I'd prefer a dirty old man than those idiots back at the temple. Heh. Now I remember why I left._ He thought about it some more as he walked back to the temple. _Heck, who said I had to stay until my birthday anyway? This was the result of my wish. Does it matter if I divulge from the original timeline?_ A small naggy voice that sounded eerily like a blend between Bulma and Chi Chi told him yes. But another voice, sounding like Goku, seemed to disagree. In the end, he went with the Goku voice. _This is my wish. This is my wish. And this time, things are going to be different,_ he promised himself.

Once he had fed the empty well the water he had collected, he headed straight to the training area, where the chi signatures of all the monks were gathered. He couldn't help but grin broadly at the thought of wiping the floor with Kurumi and Pikan. Oh yeah. Things were definitely going to be different this time around.

* * *

"Alright chumps!" Kurumi yelled across the clearing. "Today's going to be a little different."

Kuririn blinked. _Different? Huh, weird. Maybe by changing the timeline this morning it effected Kurumi's decisions. He's gotta be using this to get back at me somehow._

"Earlier today," Kurumi continued. "A certain shrimp decided it would be a good idea to defy me. And defiance was read as a challenge!" With a flourish that only he and Hercule could possibly pull off, he pointed directly at Kuririn. "You're going down today, short stuff!" He even did the thumbs down gesture which Kuririn had come to associate Hercule with.

Poor Kuririn couldn't hold back a snigger.

"What, you think this is funny?" Kurumi growled, even more enraged at Kuririn's flippant reaction. "Okay then, you asked for it, shrimp. No more Mr Nice Guy. I'm going to pummel you."

Kuririn yawned.

"Okay, that's it!" snapped Kurumi. "You and me, the ring, now."

Kuririn shrugged and stepped into the training circle. He raised an eyebrow when Kurumi gestured to Pikan to come over. The heavyset monk joined his thinner companion in the ring.

"Two on one?" said Kuririn. "Gee that's hardly fair," he smirked, "for you."

"Feel free to pick a partner," Kurumi invited. "That is, if you can find one." The monk grinned wickedly. When Kuririn had left breakfast, Kurumi had ordered all of the monks to refuse Kuririn as a partner.

"That's okay," said Kuririn, looking bored. "I don't need a partner. Besides, it's pretty obvious you coerced them into not helping."

Everyone stared at Kuririn in disbelief.

"He's crazy."

"Kurumi and Pikan will wipe the floor with him!"

"Poor guy. There won't be much left once they're done with him."

"He'll be sent away in a stretcher."

"Never took him as a fatalist."

Kuririn did some basic stretches as Pikan volunteered Rakkasei as the referee.

"Begin!" shouted Rakkasei and Kuririn took a stance for the sake of training. Across the ring, Kurumi and Pikan had also shifted into their stances: classic Orin Temple ones. Kuririn couldn't help but notice how many holes there were in their stances.

Kurumi made the first move, as expected. He shot off at a speed that was fast for humans but incredibly slow to Kuririn's chi enhanced eyesight. Kuririn stifled a yawn as he prepared to counter.

There was a collection of gasps when Kuririn caught Kurumi's fist with ease before punching his sternum, knocking the older monk out cold. Before Pikan could even move, Kuririn was right in front of him.

"B-but how -"

A flying kick to the face was Pikan's answer.

Kuririn bowed respectfully as the giant man fell to the ground with a large thump. He made his face a mask of neutrality, but inside he was laughing with wicked glee. Man that felt good! He could have waited until the tournament to get back at Kurumi but the thrill of it erased all doubts from his mind.

Rakkasei's eyes bulged out of his head in shock as he declared, "W-winner: Kuririn!"

After that day, no one bothered him again.

* * *

The stars were barely visible against the skyline but the city itself was as bright as a star. The streets were always busy, but tonight seemed quieter than normal.

A car pulled up on the street and a young woman emerged from the vehicle. Her onyx eyes were stern and gazing toward the large dome building that was Capsule Corp.

Keeping her chi as low as possible, Pan entered the building. The receptionist hardly looked up at her. From her peripheral vision, the woman behind the desk could tell it was one of 'Bulma's strange friends'. No questions were asked as Pan wandered the halls until she found the door of Bulma's laboratory. The retina scanner automatically turned on to scan Pan's irises.

"Recognized: Son Pan," said the automated voice.

After hours of string pulling from her best friend Bra Briefs, she was logged on to the system with access to some of the most secret places, including Bulma's lab.

 _I swear I'm doing this for good. Just because I'm sneaking around in what's practically my second home doesn't mean anything bad._

The time machine was quickly found and uncovered. Without wasting a moment, Pan hopped into the machine and checked her capsule case. Everything she needed for the trip was there: multiple houses, a seemingly unending supply of food to feed her saiyan appetite, a gravity room, clothes. She closed the case and started up the time machine. It wasn't particularly loud but Pan knew how sensitive Vegeta's hearing was and quickly entered the year she wished to travel to: Age 749.

"Do you wish to fly?" said the computer.

"No," replied Pan. "We're indoors and Bulma would kill me for wrecking her roof. And don't even get me started on Vegeta."

"Very well."

And in one massive, blinding flash, the machine was gone and Pan with it.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Hmm. Just what would a fight between Kuririn and Kurumi and/or Pikan be like? Honestly, the way I imagined it, it would never be a fair fight. If Kuririn did not retain his strength from the future Kurumi would beat the crap out of him. But with them, Kuririn would win by a long shot. One will always be significantly weaker than the other.**_


	3. The big city

_**A/N: Chapter 3, here we go. So we have Pan joining the adventure party by using Bulma's time machine. Hmm...**_

* * *

Kuririn had found out from a fellow monk that it was Age 749. He would be turning 13 very soon; in a few days actually. But whoever said he had to wait that long to join Goku under the mastery of Kame Sen'nin? No one, except maybe the naggy Bulma-Chi Chi voice that sometimes appeared. But the soothing Goku voice pacified his fears.

The monk figured that he did not owe the temple and its monks any goodbyes. Disappearing in the middle of the night seemed good enough. It wasn't like anyone would worry or miss him anyway. He had spent one day in Orin and already he couldn't stand it. The place held bad memories for him, even thought he had managed to quell some of them by beating Kurumi and Pikan, both of whom had done nothing short of making his life hell the first time around.

Kuririn packed his clothes into a knapsack and jogged toward the lake, where he proceeded to try flying once again. How long had it been since he felt the wind blowing against his face? Whipping through his black locks when he still had them? He concentrated on his chi and focused it at his feet. The corner of his mouth twitched upward as he remembered how Goku had shot a kamehameha through his feet during the epic battle against Piccolo in the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai. The chi expelled through his feet like a giant inflatable cushion and Kuririn found himself up in the air. He wobbled slightly at first before steadily gaining control. In no time at all, he was flying circles around the lake, grinning widely.

The familiarity wrapped itself around Kuririn and he let out a whoop of joy that was carried away by the breeze and swept down rivers and through forests. He swooped downward to fetch his knapsack before flying to the nearest city: Orange Star City, still untouched by the name and influence of 'Hercule Satan'.

 _This is great,_ thought Kuririn. _It feels so good to fly again. I'll be in Orange Star in no time. Then I might stop by West City and take a peek at Capsule Corp back in the day. I still can't believe the most famous multi-billion zeni empire in the world was founded on one product._ He allowed himself to be impressed by the idea of it all. He reminisced about the time when Capsule Corp. first released their famous Hoi Poi Capsules. He had only been a small child back then. _They've come so far._

His joyful mood was dampened when his family and friends overwhelmed all other thoughts. _I wonder how everyone's doing back home. Most of 'em will be fine. It's Marron and Goku I'm worried about. Actually, scratch that, just Marron. Goku... he and I will meet again one day and he knows it. But Marron..._ It came like a kick in the gut. Marron had become so closed off when the doctors had diagnosed him. She stopped laughing, smiling. Kuririn realised that she had never looked more like 18 and he hated that. 18... was 18. Stone cold. Icy. Bold. And he was fine with that; he still loved her for it. But Marron wasn't her. Marron didn't need to be her to cope. The transformation from a happy, carefree child to a frosty, snappish shrew almost felt completely unnatural. Oh, why did he have to leave her? If it wasn't travelling back in time it was death. Marron had been 17. She should have been out living her life like any normal girl; meeting boys, going on dates, shopping with her friends. But instead, she got stuck with caring for her sick father for the next 10 years of her life. He knew she held nothing against him for that, but it did not stop him from feeling guilty. _She's my daughter. I should have fought harder. I should have hung on longer. For her._ But at the end of the day it was all 'what ifs' and 'should haves'.

 _I'll see her again one day. I will. I'll make sure of it. And when that day comes, I'll give her all my love and be the father that she needed me to be. Marron... we'll meet again. And I promise I'll never leave you this time around._

It was a vow he would not break.

* * *

Pan emerged from the time machine. The lab was incredibly different from its future counterpart. For one, there were no blueprints and schematics plastered all over the walls and the inventions were noticeably more rustic. Motorcycles still had wheels, for one. In Pan's time, electromagnetic levitation had been the successor to wheels. Devices were more bulky instead of sleek.

 _I almost miss the future_ , Pan thought, amused.

She capsulized the time machine and placed it with the rest of her capsules in the capsule case. She then slipped the case into her pocket before leaving the room casually. With feline grace, she managed to avoid employees and the Briefs family and made it to the building's perimeters. Just as she was about to step out the front door, someone called, "Hey!"

Pan froze. Then she turned around to face a much younger Bulma Briefs: 16 to be exact. She wore her hair down with part of it in a side ponytail. It was a far cry from the short but stylish bob she was used to seeing on the genius. It seemed the younger Bulma wasn't that into ribbon scarves or necklaces either, as opposed to her older self. Her neck was bare and she wore a tight fitting top that showed her midriff. The look was completed by a pair of short shorts.

"Do I know you?" said Bulma, tilting her head slightly and narrowing her aqua eyes. "You seem awfully familiar."

"I think I just have that face," Pan said, her voice wavering nervously. She rubbed the back of her head in typical Son fashion.

Bulma's sharp eyes did not miss the gesture. "You sure about that?"

Pan broke out into a sweat. No! This could not be happening. What did Bulma see? It wasn't like she was wearing her grandfather's trademark gi or anything. She had purposely worn a different set of clothes so she wouldn't be recognized. "Yes, I'm sure," she managed to say.

"Mm. Whatever. So just who are you? You remind me an awful lot about someone I know. A certain Son Goku to be exact."

"S-sorry who?" Pan glanced down at her wrist. "Oh would you look at the time! I have a really important appointment to get to. See ya!" With speed only a saiyan could possess, she dashed out the door and disappeared into streets.

"Hey wait! How did you get in here?!" Bulma released a frustrated growl. "She wasn't even wearing a watch..."

"Miss," buzzed the maid robot, rolling up to the irate teenager. "School starts half an hour. You may want to leave."

"Crap!"

* * *

In the early morning light, Kuririn touched down on the outskirts of Orange Star City and walked the rest of the way there. Unlike Goku, Kuririn was no uncivilized hick, and managed to find his way around pretty easily. He searched around for odd jobs to do, like helping out in restaurants and construction, anything to get money. By the end of the morning, Kuririn had earned 35 zeni.

 _That should be enough for lunch and dinner. Phew. Is this what Goku normally feels like when he's hungry? I could eat a literal horse._

Loud cries and shouts reached his ears and Kuririn turned to his left to see a crowd of people gathered. "Huh," he said aloud. "I wonder what's up there?" Curiosity piqued, Kuririn made his way through the crowd to the front.

"Boo yah!" a teenage boy hollered as he performed a flurry of air punches. "Awright, awright who's next?! Who dares face... the mighty Hercule Satan?!"

Kuririn nearly fell over from shock. _Hercule?! Kami, you have got to me kidding me..._

Outside of the makeshift fighting ring was a boombox playing a familiar tune. To be exact, it was Hercule's theme song. Kuririn shook his head. The future world champion couldn't even have been 18 and he had his own theme song.

Hercule was quite different to his future counterpart. His muscles weren't as quite filled out, his skin was paler and his face was spotted with acne.

 _Oh what the heck... why not?_ "I'll fight you."

There was a brief hush before the expected laughter erupted.

Hercule sniffed crassly. "No way. I don't fight little kids."

"Kid? You can't be much older than me, _kid._ Fight me. If you're as good as you say that is..."

"Pfft, alright. But don't expect me to go easy on you." Hercule gave Kuririn the 'thumbs down' followed by the 'victory sign'. Kuririn just sighed in exasperation.

Hercule didn't bother shifting into a stance before he went on the offense. It was almost too easy for Kuririn. It was a continual pattern of dodge, block and hit. Dodge, block, hit. Dodge, block, hit.

Upon the final 'hit', Kuririn landed a vicious uppercut, putting his full strength into the punch. If he had had his adult body, Kuririn would have shattered the teenager's jaw into a million pieces.

Instead, Hercule landed on the concrete, disbelief on his face. Then he stood up, brushed himself off and massaged his jaw. Kuririn was surprised at the amount of dignity the future champ managed to retain as he did so.

"Good fight, kid," said Hercule, still wide-eyed. "What dojo did you train at?"

"Orin Temple. But, honestly, it isn't that great. There are better dojos out there."

By now, the crowd had dispersed and Hercule started packing up his things. "You are real good, lemme tell ya. Nobody's been able to take me down that easily before." He capsulized the boombox. "What's your name? I'm Hercule Satan."

"Just call me Kuririn. You're not so bad yourself. But I can't help but notice some faults in your technique."

Suddenly, all the swagger seemed to seep out of Hercule. His smug smirk was replaced by a sheepish expression. "Yeah, I know. I'm real strong and I know it but most of it's all self-taught. I want to be a wrestler, you see. I got most of my techniques from old wrestling videos I found on the internet. But you... wow, what you did was amazing. And I could tell you weren't going all out either."

"I'm a traditional martial artist," explained Kuririn. "Which was why you had such a hard time landing hits. You have more of a brawler style, while my style is more refined and precise. And that was your downfall. I attacked while your defense was lowered. You waste too much energy on excess movement and you leave yourself wide open when you do one of your 'Satan Mega Punches'."

Hercule was awestruck. "You got all that from just one match? That's amazing! I knew that there were stronger guys out there but you're way out of my league!" A determined expression settled on his face. "That does it. I'm going to train and grow stronger. One day we'll fight again and that's when I'll beat you!"

"Looking forward to it," Kuririn answered with a chuckle. "Good luck on your training Hercule."

Goodbyes were said, and as they parted ways, Kuririn couldn't help but feel that he had changed history for the better. Or at least taught Hercule a little humility earlier on before the Cell Games fiasco.

 _You're a good man Hercule. Try not to lose sight of what's right._

* * *

Pan searched wildly for Kuririn's chi signature. She had never had such a hard time honing on the chi of a powerful fighter, but Kuririn's chi seemed to blend in right along with the other earthlings. Pan figured it was because he might not be as strong as was before.

After circling around West City, it became obvious that Kuririn wasn't in the city. She was about to take her search somewhere else when something caught her eye. A very familiar girl was being hauled into an ambulance. She was bleeding all over the place, straining the sheets red. Across the road, her motorcycle lay on its side, crushed beyond repair. A very literal chill ran down her spine as the blood in her veins turned to ice.

 _Oh no. Ohh, Kami, no, please, let me be wrong._

She landed discreetly before hurrying to a police officer. "What happened?"

The officer grimaced. "A pretty bad accident, that's what happened. I'm not allowed to disclose anymore information than that, sorry."

But the officer didn't need to tell Pan the details. Because the carnage spoke for itself. The still, bloodied body of Bulma Briefs lay on the emergency bed. Her chi incredibly weak.

Bulma Briefs was going to die. From the look of those injuries, the doctors wouldn't be able to save her no matter what they did. Pan had seemed some pretty grievous injuries attained from intense training with Vegeta in the gravity room, but what she saw today topped it all. There was no way a mere human like Bulma would survive those wounds.

 _B-but then how is she alive in the future? The dragon balls maybe? No, I don't think so. Maybe... maybe my visit here effected the timeline more than I thought it would. Or maybe Kuririn changed something. Either way, I can't afford to take any chances._

Not bothering to hide anything, Pan took to the skies.

* * *

Bora looked up to the sky. He had sensed something. The muscly Indian was by no means an accomplished chi user, but he could sense that something was coming. Something big and powerful.

"Father?" said a small voice. Upa peeped out from the tent. "Is there something wrong, father?"

"I don't think so," replied Bora. "Something is coming, but I cannot feel any evil intent. Go inside. I will see what it wants."

A speck in the sky appeared. It was surrounded by white light. As the figure got closer, Bora could see that it was a petite, raven-haired girl. He stared in surprise.

Pan saw Bora waving at her but she did not engage him. There was no time for formalities. Instead, she flew upward along the tower.

"Master Karin!" she shouted. "Master Karin!"

The familiar form of said master appeared from the tower's railing. He hadn't changed at all. He was still white, furry and hilariously tubby. The cat sized Pan up for a few moments before nodding gravely. "I'll go grab some sensu beans. But let me tell you this, Son Pan, manipulation of time is a dangerous thing. Be careful."

Pan collected the beans and thanked the master before flying off.

Bora and Upa watched her disappear into the distance.

"What an amazing woman," Bora mused. He turned to Upa. "Promise me Upa, that you'll try to be like her someday. I sense goodness in her heart as well as immense strength."

"I promise, father," vowed Upa. "I will also be strong and kind as you have said."

* * *

 _ **A/N: It seems that a few things have changed in the course of history. Hercule's lesson in humility came a little (okay a lot) earlier than it did in the original timeline, Upa's promise to be like Goku came in a different form and time and it seems Bulma's life may hang on the line.**_

 _ **Few explanations may be required for this chapter:**_

 _ **1\. The scene with Hercule is based off on Goku's encounter with a Bruce Lee wannabe in West City, which he proceeds to wipe the floor with.**_

 _ **2\. Kuririn left for Orange Star City at night and arrived in the morning, while Pan arrived in West City in the morning as well.**_

 _ **3\. Kuririn is significantly weaker than his future self at the moment, but only in strength. He is mostly experienced in chi manipulation and chi attacks and fighting technique. Kuririn punching Hercule with his full strength wouldn't have hurt him too badly.**_

 _ **4\. Bulma got into her accident because she was speeding to school. This is because she wasted time talking to Pan, causing her to be late. Additionally, she was most likely preoccupied trying to figure out Pan rather than focusing her thoughts on the road.**_

 _ **5\. Pan did not have sensu beans from the future because she left on short noticed and only packed essentials.**_

 _ **6\. Everything happens around the time when the dragon ball hunt ended. Holidays have ended and school has started. I suspect Yamcha wouldn't be living with his girlfriend until a bit later. Kuririn's birthday is in a few days and that's when he will travel to seek training from Kame Sen'nin along with Goku.**_


	4. Back to the future

Son Pan had faced a lot of life or death situations in her short life, but this was by far the worst she had ever experienced. Bulma Briefs - a woman that was practically a second mother (or grandmother) to her, was going to die if Pan didn't make it to the hospital in time.

"Excuse me," Pan said hurriedly to the receptionist. "There should have been a Bulma Briefs admitted here this morning."

The doe-eyed woman behind the desk nodded as she clicked around. "Yes, that's right. The daughter of the founder of Capsule Corporation. Are you family?"

"Uh, yes."

"Please take a seat in the waiting room then. It's down the hall, first left."

Pan slammed a hand on the counter, startling the receptionist. "Wait! Can't I see her?"

"Young lady, please understand that Miss Briefs has gone through a traumatizing accident. She is currently in the ER, where our best surgeons are operating."

Pan nodded tightly before pretending to head to the waiting room, as directed. When she was out of sight, she went to the nearest looking doctor. "Excuse me, but where's the ER?"

The doctor snorted. "There's a lot of ERs in Orange Star Hospital. Be more specific."

"The one where Bulma Briefs is at."

"Block B, Sector 43. But wait, who are -"

But Pan was already off, leaving a trail of papers in her wake.

"- you."

* * *

Kuririn was passing by a TV shop when the televisions displayed on the front window started broadcasting breaking news. Some little kids to his left whined when Barney the dinosaur suddenly transformed into a grim-looking newsman.

"We interrupt this program to bring you an update on this morning's accident."

Kuririn let out a low whistle as images of scooter crushed against a truck popped up on the screen.

The newsman continued his report. "Our sources have confirmed that the victim was heiress of multi million dollar company Capsule Corporation, Bulma Briefs."

Kuririn's heart stopped.

The show was directed to a live interview with some hospital staff.

"I saw her injuries when I tended to her," said one nurse. "They were very bad."

"It is highly unlikely that she will survive," said a clean-cut doctor. "And if she does, she will be both mentally and physically disabled for life."

It flicked back to the newsman. "Let us all pray for Bulma Briefs," he said grimly before the news feed was cut off.

The toddlers next to him cheered as Barney returned, all sunshine and smiles.

 _Damn it!_ Kuririn screamed in his head as he took flight, not caring if other people saw. _What have you gotten yourself into now, Bulma? I always knew you were whacked, but this really takes the cake._

Suddenly, a familiar chi signature invaded his senses. It was distressed and fluctuating wildly - and coming straight from Orange Star Hospital. He would know that chi anywhere.

 _Pan. The hell? How did she get here? Or maybe this is all just a dream._ He pinched himself. _Definitely not a dream. But boy, oh boy, that girl has a lot of explaining to do. It figures she'd do something wild like travel back in time, if Marron's complaints were any indication._

Kuririn burst through the front doors of the hospital, not bothering to address the pretty receptionist as he headed for Pan. _I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that Pan has something to do with Bulma's accident or at least knows something about it._

Pan's familiar voice floated from around the corner. "You have to let me in. I can save her. Don't make me hurt you."

Kuririn turned the corner just as one male nurse said to another, "Bob, go call security on this crazy broad. She's obviously a psycho."

A low growl before the nurses were rendered unconscious, courtesy of two neck chops from the Son girl. Pan's eyes widened as she saw Kuririn.

"You can explain later," the monk said. "But right now, we have to save Bulma."

They threw the doors open.

"H-hey, you can't be in here," said one of the nurses stationed by the door. "You're not authorized!"

"You," Pan said bluntly to a random surgeon, pulling out a sensu. "If you know that's good for you, mash up this bean and insert the contents into her stomach. "I don't care how you do it, just get to it. I'd hate to use force."

"Argh, Pan... you're not doing this right," Kuririn groaned. "You don't threaten people! You'll just make them scared." Kuririn turned to the doctors. "Please, listen to my friend. If you don't she'll die."

"He's right about the dying bit," muttered a veteran surgeon. He was an old man with bushy eyebrows. "But we didn't prescribe the bean..."

"Please," Pan begged, taking a different approach. "She's our friend. We wouldn't be here if we didn't know what we were doing." She held the bean in an outstretched hand. "Take it."

"Someone just call security," said a surgeon. "They're interfering."

"No, Sampson."

It was the veteran surgeon who had spoken. "She won't survive no matter what we do. The bean won't hurt anyone."

Sampson gaped. "George! You must be mad! What a time to be going senile. This is potentially the biggest operation of our careers! We can't take any risks."

"Dammit Sampson! If we don't take this risk, she'll die. And, to speak in _your_ lingo, if she dies, our names'll get dragged in the mud. You don't want that now, do ya?"

Sampson muttered something incoherent before sighing. "Fine."

The other surgeons looked unsure but they were willing to trust George on this one. After filling Bulma's stomach with two sensu beans, everybody waited anxiously for the results.

When nothing happened, Sampson shouted, "I knew it! It didn't work. And now we're all dead..." He ran his fingers through his hair in a stressed manner. "My career just started... it can't end now!"

"Melodramatic much," Pan uttered. "I can sense Bulma's chi getting stronger. She'll wake soon enough."

Kuririn nodded in agreement, and true to Pan's word, Bulma stirred.

The surgeons and nurses gaped in disbelief.

"Where am I?" mumbled Bulma as she sat up on the operating table, completely unharmed. "I feel like I just got ran over by a truck." Then she saw Pan. "You!"

* * *

Pan, Kuririn and Bulma all set down on the park bench, licking their icy poles. Then, the latter both glared at the former, who squirmed underneath their stares while smiling sheepishly.

"You have a lot of explaining to do," they said in unison.

"Alright, you caught me," Pan sighed. "I suppose the icy poles, which I paid for, did nothing to help me... Anyway, Bulma, I'll start with you.

"To put it bluntly, you were in an accident. You collided with a truck. I was flying by when - "

"Um, flying?" repeated Bulma with an eyebrow raised. "Like in a copter or something?"

Pan sighed. "It'll be easier to show you."

Bulma's eyes widened slightly as Pan levitated off the ground. Then she smiled. "Okay, I believe you."

"I know it's hard to believe but - wait what? You believe me? Just like that?"

Bulma chuckled. "I'm friends with a super strong monkey boy and also went on a hunt for seven mystical orbs. Yes, Pan, I believe you. You could tell me you were an alien time traveler and I'd believe you."

Kuririn and Pan both sweatdropped at how close she was to the truth.

"But anyway," said Bulma, waving a hand. "I just want to know how you saved me."

Pan explained the concept of sensu beans, and about Karin. Bulma nodded when she finished. "I guess I owe you one. Thanks, you really saved my skin. Though I'm not sure how the media's gonna take this."

"Probably gonna have a field day," offered Kuririn, tossing the his paddlepop stick into the nearest bin. "Now it's my turn. Bulma, could you leave us please."

Bulma was slightly miffed. "Fine. I should be at home anyway. Mom and Dad must be pretty worried."

When she was gone, Kuririn turned to Pan. "Tell me everything."

* * *

"... and that's how we ended up here," finished Pan. "Anyway, I have the capsule for the time machine in here. Get on and we'll be home in no time."

Kuririn grimaced. How was he going to tell her this? "Pan..."

"And then everyone will be so happy, especially Marron..."

"Pan, stop. I'm not going."

Pan blinked. "Sorry what? What do you mean you're not going? I risked my butt for you Kuririn! And what about everyone back home?"

"I know!" he snapped. "And I hate that I don't want to return to them just yet. But... gah, Pan, you have to understand. I made that wish knowing full well what might happen. Please understand. I'm not ready to go just yet. It's... complicated. But I just need to be selfish for once. Please, just go home. And tell everyone that I'm fine and come back at a later date."

"You must be joking."

"Believe me, I'm not."

"What about Marron?! She's the reason I went on this trip in the first place. She needs you Kuririn! She acts all tough but it's killing her. I know it. I've seen her mask slip."

Kuririn's heart broke in two. He knew Pan wasn't exaggerating anything. He could tell that by the conviction in her voice. What had he been thinking? How selfish could he be to choose this little time travel trip over his own daughter? He had made a promise not to fail her again, but it seemed like he'd already broken it.

"Kuririn," Pan started again, uncharacteristically serious. "What do you want me to do, Kuririn? Beg? Because I will do that. For Marron. I don't want her to be like this. I know it sounds selfish but I want my friend back." She got down on her knees. "Please, Kuririn. Marron needs you. If there was ever a time, it's now."

"I'm sorry," whispered Kuririn. "I'm sorry you and Marron have to go through this." He lifted his gaze. "Get up Pan, it pains me to see you beg for her sake. I'll go back with you. It's... it's the right thing to do. And I've changed this timeline enough anyway." _I set off on this journey wanting to be a hero. I've swayed Hercule already. And that's enough. It's time for me to be a hero to Marron. And even if I can't, I have to try._

"Thank... thank you."

* * *

Hercule was in the middle of buying an icy pop when a whirring sound from the clearing behind the ice cream stand caught his attention. He excused himself before investigating. He looked up just in time to see a bright yellow machine hover into the air before disappearing in a bright flash.

"No way..."

* * *

 ** _A/N: Short chapter. But this is not the end. Kuririn's return to the present (future?) will only be temporary._**


	5. Author's Note

**_Er, okay. Let me begin by telling you that I don't intend to abandon this fanfic in any way, shape or form. If you've read my other stories you probably would have noticed I abandoned most of my multi chapter stories because I got bored ect. I retired from fan fiction some time ago but decided to return in 2016 for a brief moment._**

 ** _Anyway, there really is no schedule for posting new chapters, but the next will take a bit longer than usual for ambiguous reasons. Just a small hiatus..._**

 ** _Once chapter five comes out this little note will be deleted._**

 ** _So, yeah. That's a thing._**

 ** _~Strawberry_**


	6. A day in the life of Marron

_**A/N: Here we are. Chapter 5. Kuririn returns to the present (future?). Sorry for not updating. I haven't had access to a computer for a while (I had my iPad but I don't like writing from there). Anywho, this is mostly Marron-centered; basically a day in the life of Marron. Also some screentime for Yamcha and characters that were used and then never seen again in DBZ (unfortunately). Shame. I really did like those characters; they could have been something.**_

* * *

Marron opened her eyes and sat up in her bed, alarmed. She clutched her head and let out a small groan. A familiar chi signature was completely overwhelming her senses. But she knew that it couldn't be true. So, instead, she got out of bed for a warm cup of tea.

As she sipped the brew - mixture of honey, lemon and ginger - she walked over to the single window in her small apartment. She had moved out of Kame House a few months ago on the insistence of her father and Kame Sen'nin's perverted actions. Though the old master had ceased most of his groping when Kuririn had been diagnosed, there would always be a few unappreciated ass squeezes and puff-puffs. His antics normally sent him flying through the wooden walls of Kame House. Marron was not one for training, but she was still strong enough to knock the old man off his feet.

Looking out the window and into the concrete jungle that was Herculopolis, Marron quietly observed the backdrop. A middle-aged woman with short ginger hair was conversing with her daughter as they crossed the road. Marron blinked as she imagined herself and 18 doing the same as the red-haired women. But of course, it wasn't meant to be, even if she willed it. Being an android, 18 carried no chi signature, and thus remained elusive to the Z Senshi and Marron. To her left, she noticed two young boys squealing as they were nearly hit by a car. Marron snorted. They should have been watching where they were going.

She set down the now empty cup and put on a change of clothes - a blue blouse and jeans - before leaving her apartment.

A voice called to her before she could exit the lobby. It was the nice old lady who owned the apartment block, a woman whose name Marron never bothered to learn.

"Hello," said the woman. "You must be the newcomer. I never caught your name, dearie."

Marron debated whether to tell the woman to mind her own business or to strike up some small talk before saying, "It's Marron."

"Well it's nice to meet you, Marron. You can call me Mrs Diddle." She smiled. "If you ever need anything dearie, don't hesitate to ask."

"Of course, Mrs Diddle. Thank you. I would love to chat some more, but I really must be going," said Marron, heading toward the door.

Mrs Diddle waved in turn before waddling down the hallway.

Outside, it was buzzing with life, as always. She had to scare a few eager-looking lads off with her practiced glare as she walked downtown. She could have flown, but she preferred travelling the old fashion way.

 _I could go for a coffee,_ she mused, _Kami knows I need it. The tea just wasn't strong enough._

As she entered the nearest coffee shop and waited in line, she let her thoughts wander back to the familiar chi she had sensed that morning. She grew increasingly frustrated and she dwelled on the idea of her father being alive. It had definitely been Kuririn's chi she had felt. But it was different - healthier. He had traveled back in time according to Bulma; did that mean he was no longer sick? But how could this be? She pondered on it until she left the store, a cappuccino in one hand.

 _I should go talk to someone,_ she decided. _Perhaps Piccolo or Dende._

* * *

"Mr Popo is sorry, but Dende is off at a godly meeting," said Mr Popo.

Marron frowned. "Right. And Piccolo...?"

"At his waterfall but Mr Popo does not recommend disturbing him."

"Mm. Okay, thank you Mr Popo."

She left the Lookout burning with the frustration of her unanswered questions.

 _So Dende and Piccolo are out of the question. Which means I have to settle for the next best thing. But who would that be? Goku? He's an idiot but he and dad were best friends. Perhaps he knows what's going on._

She opened her chi senses to find that Goku was in his super saiyan state. Vegeta seemed to be in the same place and his energy was as high as Goku's.

 _They're sparring. Of course they are._

With an exasperated noise, she opted to fly back to Herculopolis instead. Maybe do some shopping - browsing what the local mall had to offer was always a remedy for the young blonde.

Half and hour later, Marron was carrying three bags of clothes and heading toward the next shoe store. A sales assistant in her thirties greeted her with a welcoming smile. Her name tag read 'Eresa'.

"If you need anything, just holler," Eresa said after finishing a monologue that was meant for Marron to feel welcome.

After spending fifteen minutes looking at one pair of shoes, Marron was on her way out, sighing in relief. Eresa meant well but she was more than a tad overbearing. Not to mention the concept of personal space seemed to be lost on the bubbly blonde.

Marron raised an eyebrow as she watched a man walk into the shoe store and give Eresa an affectionate kiss. Her boyfriend or husband, no doubt.

"Lucky her," Marron muttered, surprised at the envy she heard in her own voice. _And just what do I have to be jealous about? Just what does she have that I don't?_

A lover, obviously. And probably a father who was still alive and well and a mother who cared for her.

 _Whatever. I don't need those things. I'm fine on my own._

But out of curiosity, she lingered by the store to listen in on their conversation.

"You look excited," Eresa was saying to her partner. "So what's up, Sharpner?"

"Haven't you heard?" Sharpner said, shock in his voice. "The retired baseball legend Yamcha is here in the mall! And signing autographs too!"

"And I suppose you want to get one," said Eresa, trying to keep boredom from her tone. She never had been a fan of baseball, or any sport for that matter. That was more Videl's thing, though she had mellowed out when she married Gohan and had Pan.

"Are you kidding? Hell yeah, I do! And you're coming with me."

"Ahh... I guess. Lunch is due in five anyway."

 _Yamcha's here?_ thought Marron, recalling Eresa's words. _I didn't feel his chi on the way in. Pfft. He must have gotten pretty weak to be able to blend in with all the other humans. But he was a close friend of Kuririn, wasn't he? Surely he would have felt something too. Unless he was too caught up in himself to notice._

But in the end, she supposed it wouldn't hurt if she popped over for a visit. She hadn't seen Yamcha since her father's 'death'.

She followed Sharpner and Eresa from a distance at a leisurely pace. The blonde man wouldn't shut up about Yamcha and poor Eresa was trying her best to seem interested. Sharpner seemed to notice because he not-so-subtly changed the subject.

"Have you heard anything from Videl as of late?" he asked.

Marron nearly tripped over her ballet flats. She caught herself just in time and narrowed her eyes at the couple in front of her, completely oblivious to her presence.

"Yeah, actually," replied Eresa, frowning slightly. "Apparently Pan's missing. She hasn't called for a while and Videl and Gohan are getting pretty worried."

"Yikes. You're her godmother right? She's what, 16?"

"18," Marron corrected automatically before she could stop herself. The blondes turned around. _Crap._

"It's not very polite to be eavesdropping," Eresa chuckled. "You're the girl from earlier, right?"

"Mm. Yes. Did you say that Pan was missing?"

Sharpner glanced at her. "That's really none of your business. You shouldn't have been listening in the first place." He tugged Eresa's arm gently. "Come on E, she's probably some fan of the Satan family."

"Fan my ass," Marron said loudly, her eye twitching angrily before returning to her cool state. "Pan's a... friend of mine. So why haven't I heard of this?"

"Videl wanted to keep in under wraps," explained Eresa, ignoring her lover's protests. "The only people outside of family she's told are my mom and I."

 _Knowing Pan, she's probably run off somewhere like the kid she is._ Marron reached out with her chi senses but came back with negative results. It was like Pan had vanished from the face of the earth. "Odd," Marron mumbled. _Does that mean she's dead?_

By now, Eresa and Sharpner had left her, so she was only with the company of her thoughts. _Like Pan would be dead and we wouldn't be any the wiser. Pan's an impulsive brat who doesn't think before she does things but she's not stupid enough to be killed like a weakling._

But what other explanation could there be? She decided to think on it a bit later. Right now, she had an impromptu meeting with Yamcha to get to.

* * *

"The Bandit!" a nerdy looking fellow gushed as he handed a piece of paper of Yamcha to sign. "I'm your biggest fan, Mr Bandit sir!"

Yamcha chuckled. "Hey, thanks, kid." He handed the autograph to the nerd, who then proceeded to faint. Yamcha sweatdropped. "Er, security? I think this boy needs a bit of help."

The crowd's excited vibe morphed into something not too happy when Marron shoved her way through the crowd, ignoring curses thrown at her. She said to Yamcha, "I need to talk to you. It's about dad."

* * *

Mrs Diddle was having a nice stroll in Herculopolis Park when she spotted a flock of pigeons fighting over a small loaf of bread. She smiled. The elderly woman adored animals, and birds were no exception.

She took out a slice of bread and began feeding the pigeons, the action filling her with joy.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light and the sky rumbled. Mrs Diddle whipped around to see some sort of spacecraft descend from air and land within the trees. Her eyes widened. "Oh my..."

* * *

 ** _A/N: I noticed that in the DB/Z/GT fandom that most of the members watch the anime. I have never watched a single episode of DB/Z/GT in my life. Everything in my fanfiction, like names of people and cities, are derived from the English VIZ manga._**

 ** _While most people may refer to energy as ki, I refer to it as chi. It's the same thing._**

 ** _Kuririn is the same Krillin, Kame Sen'nin/Muten Roshi is Master Roshi etc._**

 ** _Herculopolis is Satan City, Tenkaichi Budokai is the World Martial Arts Tournament etc._**

 ** _Kami's Lookout never had a particular name in the manga so it will just be called Kami's Lookout as per the anime._**

 ** _If the fusion of Goku and Vegeta ever show up (they probably won't), they will be called 'Vegerot' as per the manga instead of 'Vegito' as per the anime._**

 ** _This is mostly filler. The main storyline will begin soon, in maybe a few chapters. I know I said the Author's Note would be deleted but I'm keeping it up there for the sake of postage._**


	7. The Red Shark Gang! Z Senshi assemble!

_**A/N: I'm thinking of starting a new fanfiction - a Gohan highschool fic maybe. I've been reading a lot of those lately. It's probably gonna be a oneshot so I can continue to work on this story without getting too bothered, but who knows? It might (impossibly) turn into an epic saga. I can dream...**_

 ** _I'll be answering the review I got in the AN at the end and addressing a few other things. You don't have to read them, but I'd be grateful if you do._**

 ** _Also, I know this chapter has a questionable title. It's called 'Z Senshi Assemble' because, well, they're part of the Z Senshi. And people seem to forget that because all they can think of are Goku and Vegeta. And Dragon Ball Super's not doing anything to help it either - the whole series by far seems to be Goku/Vegeta centered. I really do hope that the upcoming Universal Survival Arc will shed some new light onto lesser-used, forgotten characters like Tienshinhan, Android 17, Master Roshi etc._**

* * *

"Ouch..." whined Pan, rubbing her sore head. She had banged her skull on the glass roof upon landing - the ground must have been uneven and the machine had lurched. It was a miracle that the roof was still intact.

The time machine opened up in a hiss, releasing some steam and causing Pan to cough.

"Kuririn?" called Pan, waving away the fog. "Where are you?"

"Under here..."

Pan looked down and stifled a giggle. Somehow, Kuririn had managed to lodge himself underneath the two-seater. Any mirth dissolved when she realized that Kuririn was still stuck in his child's body. _Ah well. It was to be expected. I wonder how Marron will react to this though. It's gonna be weird, no doubt, seeing your dad as a little kid._

"Get me out of here," grumbled Kuririn. "Yeesh, my back is killing me."

Once Kuririn had been unstuck and the time machine capsulized, they walked out of the copse and onto the cobblestone path of Herculopolis Park. It was just like how they remembered it. Only...

There were never any bug-eyed women staring at them like that had two heads.

"Can we help you, ma'am?" asked Kuririn, getting more than a little uncomfortable under the woman's scrutiny.

"The flash," said Mrs Diddle. "Did you see what happened? A large machine descended from the sky..."

Pan and Kuririn exchanged a panicked glance. Uh oh. They quickly though up a cover story.

"Oh, yes!" cried Pan, a little too enthusiastically. "That was a... drone! From Capsule Corp. They're testing prototypes before they release it on the market?"

Mrs Diddle raised her eyebrows. "That sounds like sensitive information. How would you know, if you don't mind me asking?"

Kuririn opened his mouth to speak. Pan tried not to look too nervous as she sweated bullets; inwardly begging Kuririn to say something plausible. When he explained how they were friends of Bulma Briefs, she relaxed. It was the truth after all, despite it being smothered by lies.

Mrs Diddle eventually left them alone, but the two warriors had a feeling that this wasn't going to be the last time they saw of her.

Suddenly, there was a spike in chi. The fluctuation did not go unnoticed.

"It's coming from the mall," said Pan. "And it feels like Marron's."

"Is she fighting?" wondered Kuririn, opening his own chi senses. He frowned. "We'd better go check it out. It's probably nothing serious, but... I want to see her again."

As they flew toward the mall, Pan couldn't help but think of Kuririn's new height. She smiled slightly. Pan had never been a tall person, and Kuririn had given her a run for her money when he was still in his adult form. She was merely a girl of five foot three after all - three inches taller than Kuririn. But now, seeing him in his child body, Pan couldn't help but find the situation rather hilarious.

"What's so funny?" Kuririn asked, noticing her mirth.

"Hee," giggled Pan. "Nothing... it's really nothing."

* * *

Just as Marron was going to demand some answers from Yamcha, an alarm suddenly sounded and people started screaming.

Marron scowled at her father's friend. "We're not done here!"

Yamcha frowned, disapproving of her attitude. "Marron, this seems to be more serious than whatever you have to say right now." He stood up from his chair, nearly flipping his desk over.

"GYAAH!" one of Yamcha's security guards screamed as a bullet pierced his shoulder. He fell to the ground and clutched his shoulder, writhing in pain. The other guard, who seemed to realize how out of hand this situation was getting, let out a whimper and fled.

"Pathetic," Yamcha muttered before shouting, "What is going on here!"

As if some force had come over them, the crowd parted, revealing a small group of heavily armed men.

The leader, a hugely muscular man, stepped forward, holding his weapon, a machine gun, close to his chest. "Are you The Bandit?"

"That would be me," Yamcha said coolly, assessing their power levels. Their strength was a joke, but those guns were dangerous. Weapons had come very far - bullets were now strong enough to hurt anyone - save for the saiyans, of course. Not to mention that the entire mall was filled with civilians. They obviously had allies stationed out in the mall; he could see some of them holding groups of people hostage upstairs. Yamcha grimaced. "And what do you want?"

The leader grinned, though it was more like showing teeth. "You can call me Tarou. And as for what I want, I want you."

Despite himself and the situation, Yamcha chuckled, "Sorry, but I don't swing that way." He grew serious quickly. "Let these people go and I won't hurt you too badly."

The men guffawed and Tarou said, "And just what are _you_ going to do about it? My boss wants you dead before today is over. I'll make sure of that. You may have been a martial artist once upon a time... but now all you are is some aging old man!" He released his bullets. "Die!"

People screamed like it was the end of the world as the bullets hailed down on Yamcha - and Marron too, who had moved to stand next to the scarred man.

But nothing happened.

Tarou blinked. "What the? You're supposed to be dead! You and your little lady friend." A vein popped out on his forehead. "Why aren't you lying in a pool of blood?!"

In answer, Yamcha opened up his closed hand, Marron doing the same. The caught bullets sprinkled down onto the floor, clattering everywhere. The pair's palms were covered in angry welts but they weren't about to let Tarou know that.

"We may not be the strongest," said Yamcha. "But that doesn't mean we're weak!"

Faster than the human eye could see, he had covered the distance between where he had been standing and Tarou. The huge man couldn't even comprehend what was happening before Yamcha punched him in the sternum, knocking him out cold.

As for Marron, she was dealing with the others. She was in no mood to listen to sexist comments from pea-brained men so instead of waiting around, she swiftly dispatched the mercenaries.

"Of course there's a hostage situation," she said, sarcasm dripping from her words. "What, with the crappy crime rate and all..."

Suddenly, two familiar chis pinged and Marron faltered - a mistake. She grunted as a bullet struck her arm. _Shit! Shouldn't have let my guard down._

Behind her, she could hear Yamcha negotiating with the remaining men, trying to get them to call off the rest of their allies. Of course, the mercenaries knew that they had the upper hand with all the hostages they were holding upstairs. And there was probably more within the vicinity of the mall.

The two chis flew closer until they were inside the mall, where they began to rise, indicating that they had engaged in combat with the enemy.

Marron grimaced. _Go get 'em dad._

* * *

"Yikes," said Kuririn, narrowly avoiding a bullet. "Does this happen often? Because I have a feeling that it does."

"Herculopolis has the highest crime rate in Japan," replied Pan as she punched a man in the face, knocking his weapon out of his arms and rendering him unconscious. She considered spitting on his body at first but instead continued, "Marron should have her batch handled. And I think I can feel Yamcha with her too, so he'll be helping."

"Dunno why Marron wanted to live here," Kuririn said as they finished up the last of the mercenaries on their floor. "Doesn't seem like such a great place."

The hostages, now free, quickly scurried off. But one stayed back and bowed their head gratefully. "Thank you!"

Kuririn gave him a nod before flying up to the top floor to defeat the next batch of men. There weren't as many stationed at the top, and not as many hostages as before. They were quickly dispatched and the hostages were released.

"I think I recognize some of these guys," Pan remarked. "They're part of the Red Shark Gang. They're not very cleverly organized... most of the time they work as hired guns nowadays."

"They're not very good at that either," said Kuririn and the two shared a laugh before descending to the bottom floor, where Yamcha and Marron were.

* * *

"What was your name?" Yamcha said boredly, looking at the man before him. "Slimjim was it? You should probably try radioing your grunts. I think you'll find that they're... incapacitated."

It was true. Marron had felt multiple chis drop dramatically. But poor Slimjim had no idea. He decided to think nothing of Yamcha's words, waving it off as a bluff. Instead, he retaliated by firing the last of his bullets. Yamcha caught all of them but was forced to deflect the last.

Marron watched helplessly as the bullet soared toward a woman who seemed to have a broken leg. She was weeping, trying to move out of the way. And there was nothing Marron or Yamcha could do for her. They were fast, yes, but the bullet would hit home before they could save her - they were simply too far away.

Suddenly, two figures descended and the larger one caught the bullet.

Pan smirked as she crushed the bullet into powder, a fierce demonstration of only a fraction of her saiyan strength. She cracked her knuckles. "I've been looking to beat up more people," she said to Slimjim. She scrutinized him flippantly. "Too bad you look like I could probably snap you in half by sneezing at you." To add to Slimjim's shock and shame, she yawned.

Marron couldn't resist snorting. _Typical Pan. Someone ought to teach that girl a lesson. Her parents have obviously spoiled her. Heck, even Bra the princess has more sense than Pan!_

"Marron?"

Marron ceased her internal rant as she spotted her father standing a little behind Pan. Although the last time she'd seen him he wasn't so short. Or chubby. Or stout.

"Dad," Marron managed to get out. "Is... is that you?"

But the reunion had to be saved for later. Slimjim had tossed aside his machine gun and taken out a handgun. He open fired at Pan. "T-take this you bitch!"

The bullets were ineffective, as usual.

Some good sense seem to knock itself into Slimjim's brain, because he yelled in fear and hauled ass toward the mall doors.

"Let him go," Yamcha said nonchalantly, seeing that Pan was going to go after him. "I can sense the police outside."

Pan chuckled as Slimjim's fearful bleating turned into one of surprise and frustration.

Yamcha stared at Kuririn. "I have officially seen everything."

"Oh come off it," huffed Kuririn, rolling his eyes. "I can still kick your ass and you know it." But even as he said these words, he was unsure. He was weak and he knew that. Despite having never trained since the Cell Games, Yamcha could still very well beat him. He shook his head. He could worry about Yamcha later, right now, he a daughter to reunite with.

"You should head to Kame House if you want to, er, have a chat," suggested Pan, mirroring Kuririn's thoughts.

"Fine," said Marron, her gaze fixated on her chibi father. "Dad... we need to talk."

* * *

 _ **A/N: To my first reviewer, Andrey258: First of all, thanks! For reviewing of course. You had a few questions, I noticed, spread across your two reviews. So, without further ado, the answers:**_

 ** _Q. Why did 18 die first?_**

 ** _A. 18 didn't die. She's abroad. I guess you could say she left Kuririn. It was mentioned in chapter one. I know it seems potentially out of character for her, but I needed to push her aside for character development and simply because she wasn't needed in the story._**

 ** _Q. How old is Pan?_**

 ** _A. Yeah, I thought about age a lot before I started writing this. I've always imagined Marron as 3 years old during the Boo Saga. Which means she is five years younger than Trunks. Pan was 4 during the Epilogue of DBZ, so Marron would be 13 and Trunks 18 and Goten 17/18. Marron was 17 when Kuririn was diagnosed with his illness, making Pan 8 during the time of this happening. It has been 10 years since Kuririn was diagnosed and Marron was forced to look after her father. Marron is now 27 and Pan is now 18._**

 ** _In case you can't be bothered to read the entire answer, here's a shorter one:_**

 ** _Marron - 27_**

 ** _Pan - 18_**

 ** _This was also mentioned: what I called the bullies of Orin Temple. I've mentioned that I have never watched the anime, save for Super, which I started watching last year. Instead, I read the English manga. I remember in the manga that only the fat and the slim bully made an appearance. I don't recall them ever being called names like The Bully, The Whisper or The Loud One. So instead, I opted to have them have names. So I just hope that clarifies that also. They won't be appearing anytime soon (or at all, probably), since they were only there because they were part of Kuririn's past._**

 ** _Also, a few more things (this is no longer part of the review I answer in the above) to be addressed:_**

 ** _Q. Who hired the Red Shark Gang to kill Yamcha?_**

 ** _A. That's not important. I only needed them there for a more interested meet up between Marron and Kuririn and Pan (and Yamcha too I guess). But this will be addressed in later chapters (probably next chapter), but like I said, it won't be important._**

 ** _Q. Whoa! The Red Shark Gang?! What happened to not watching the anime?_**

 ** _A. The fact that I've never watched the anime hasn't changed. Because, well, I haven't xD I know of the Red Shark Gang because I read a lot of DBZ fanfiction, especially Gohan/Videl Highschool fics as of late. And what do ya know? The Red Shark Gang are based in Herculopolis (or Satan city, whatever) and are sometimes involved in the stories I read. So there we go. I also did a bit more research and found that the speeders from the Saiyaman Saga from the original manga are part of the Red Shark Gang. They're called Slimjim and Jimbo apparently. Glad I did that - never got any names from the manga..._**

 ** _And lastly, I just want to say I hope that it's not a problem that I don't watch the anime and take my words like chi from the manga. I won't be doing any changes to this aspect - so please do not flame me on this because you'll just be wasting your time._**

 ** _Reviews are definitely appreciated! The more the merrier. Constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms! And more so are positive reviews, of course. I mean, who doesn't love positive reviews? xD_**

 ** _xx Strawberry ~_**


	8. With father

**_A/N: Do we really need one? But for the sake of it, Marron and Kuririn are finally getting to talk. Also, Pan might be experiencing a few teenager-to-adult saiyan issues. Will they be a problem in the future, I wonder...?_**

* * *

It was a beautiful afternoon; the sun was shining bright and the waves tickled the sandy shores of Kame Island. The single palm tree on the island swayed, its fronds dancing gracefully in the breeze. Seagulls squawked as they flew in a large flock, disappearing into the fluffy white clouds. Beyond those clouds was a world of blue. The face of nature was truly a wonderful one.

Marron never did like nature. The only jungles she liked to see were concrete ones. She had never been a girl to judge things based on the weatherr either. After all, when her mother left the first flakes of what was to be lovely winter snow had descended from the heavens. And when she celebrated her 16th birthday with her family and friends at Capsule Corp, it had been rained out. And the final act of treason the weather had committed against her was that it had been bright and sunny when her father passed on. Or so she thought.

She grimaced. That led to the other complication. Her father was alive. Alive and... a child. The entire flight to Kame Island had been a tense and silent one, what with Kuririn contemplating on what to say to his daughter and Marron lost in her own confusion. It was clear that Kuririn had been sent to the past. The evidence was right in front of her. But what really puzzled her was why he had kept his child's body when he returned to the present time. But those questions would be answered later if they could be.

Marron did not meet her father's eyes. She only stared at them through the reflection of a glass vase nearby. She had instigated this, yes, but how was she to go about it? Kuririn, sitting opposite her, was also thinking of how to start.

He broke first. "Marron..." Kuririn's voice trailed off as he racked his brain on what to say next. His own stupidity and insensitivity had never astounded him more when he said, "Nice weather we're having?"

Marron stared at him, her eyes regaining a bit of their hard edge. "When I told you that we needed to talk, dad, I didn't mean small, meaningless conversations about the goddamn weather."

"Yeah. We have so much to talk about," murmured Kuririn. He chuckled. It was a hollow sound. "Marron... let me start off by saying that I'm sorry."

Marron blinked.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't be there for you when you needed me."

"Needed you!" blurted Marron, her stone mask cracking slightly. "I-It was you! You needed me not the other way round!" She sagged, as if the words had sapped the very life out of her. "You don't need to apologize for that - "

"Yes! Yes I do, Marron, hear me out." He stared into her eyes, not breaking the gaze. "I was three years into the sickness when your mother left and... and it absolutely broke me."

"I know, dad. I was there."

"You were only 19 Marron. And I ignored you. I boycotted you and your efforts to help me... because of something so petty that it's utterly unforgivable. You say that I needed you, and yes, that was true, I did, but..." he swallowed, "but one parent was already gone. And in a way, I left you too. That's not the only thing. There are other things too, like when I died..."

"Dying wasn't your fault!" Marron snapped. "It wasn't, it wasn't! It was some stupid ass disease." Her eyes flared with bottled anger. "How dare you say it was your fault! How dare you! The whole thing was absolute bullshit! How was it something that Dende, a senzu or even the dragon couldn't cure? The universe willed it to be that way and I will never forgive it for that!"

Kuririn tore his gaze away. "Enough! Please, Marron, just do me the favor of listening for a bit."

"Only if you answer one question... just one."

Kuririn blinked in anticipation.

"Dad... you said that it you ignored me because of something so petty that it was unforgivable. What was it that you saw in me that made you do it? Just answer me this and I'll grant you your... favor."

Kuririn did not bother pulling any punches. That sort of thing was useless on Marron - in fact it hurt her more than helped most of the time. "I did it because you looked so much like your mother."

* * *

Pan, who had grabbed lunch with Yamcha after the entire hostage fiasco, nearly spat the delicate seafood she was eating when she felt Marron's chi spike at an alarmingly fast rate.

Yamcha raised an eyebrow. "What, was it under-cooked or something?"

"You didn't feel that?"

Yamcha shook his head. His sense of chi was almost completely nullified from lack of use and training.

Pan felt Marron calm again and relaxed slightly. She looked out to the sea, which was in plain sight from their place on the VIP balcony that Yamcha had booked, originally for a snobby lady friend before he had blown her off to spend time with his 'favorite unofficial niece'. Her eyes glazed over, as if she could see the little island in the middle of the ocean and Marron unleashing her icy rage upon her father inside Kame House.

Yamcha cut into his scallops. "They'll be fine, Pan." He smiled warmly. "They'll put through, I just know it."

"I certainly hope so. I didn't drag chrome dome all the way back from the past just to have them fight and split."

"Chrome dome? You're spending way too much time with Vegeta."

"In mine and his defense, he makes a good sparring partner."

Yamcha swallowed his food. "Yeah, but what I really want to know is why you acted the way you did today against Slimjim. We don't talk much, Pan, but I've never seen you so... bloodlusted before." He scratched his head. "Is that even a word?"

"It's probably just my saiyan side," Pan said dismissively, hoping to hide her growing discomfort. "I just haven't had a real fight for a while, though I would hardly call what happened before a fight. It just... helped me release a bit of my more... primal side. And as for the correctness of the word, try a dictionary."

Yamcha shrugged before returning to his meal, Pan following suit. "If you say so," he said, answering both statements at once.

* * *

"You hated her?" Marron asked, her voice barely a whisper. She was cupping a warm glass of water she had gotten from the kitchen. Around her, Kame Sen'nin's playboy magazines were strewn across the floor, blown away from their various places when Marron had powered up in her anger.

"Yes," answered Kuririn, equally quiet. He closed the cover of a magazine for decency's sake. "Hate always comes after devastation."

"And then emptiness," Marron added, sipping her water.

Kuririn frowned slightly, though it was more out of sorrow than anything else. "You shouldn't be experiencing those things." He buried his face in his hands. "This really is my fault, oh Kami..."

"I thought we moved past that, dad," Marron said roughly, placing the glass she was holding on a table adjacent from where they were sitting.

"That was one thing, Marron, but the other... it's as unforgivable as the first thing." He would not meet her gaze. "When I came was in the past, I _enjoyed_ it. I enjoyed having even just some of my power back, having... freedom." His eyes lifted and Marron saw that they were filled with unspoken grief. "How could I Marron? How could I possibly have allowed myself to forget about everything here even for a second?"

"You're entitled to enjoy yourself without any restraints," Marron told him, slightly puzzled and prickling with curiosity. "But I have a feeling that you have more to tell."

"You get that from your mother." Marron rolled her eyes in mock annoyance and Kuririn smiled slightly before continuing. "You know how Pan came back into the past to get me back, right?"

Marron snorted. "Do I ever! Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to her and all but she's still a spoiled, annoying brat. One good deed isn't going to change my mind that easily."

"I don't expect you to, Marron, what with all the things you ragged on about her on my bedside. But this... this is what I'm most ashamed off, Marron." The first tear fell. Then another. "She went to get me yes, but you don't know what happened before she took me back with her."

As stony and cold as she was, Marron always did have a soft spot for people who cried. But her will was stronger than her weakness and her eyes remained relatively dry.

"I refused."

Marron stilled.

"I refused her Marron," Kuririn moaned, as if every word was an agony. "I wanted to stay. I didn't want to return, even though I still had obligations here."

"What?" Marron said, the word as sharp as she intended. "What are you talking about? What do you mean you didn't want to come back?"

"It means what it means, Marron. I didn't want to come back because I believed that I would be better off in the other timeline, and that there was nothing left for me here because everyone believed me dead."

"It was figured out in seconds, dad!" Marron cried, her voice rising with every word. "Bulma deduced it in minutes!"

"I didn't know," Kuririn ground out, angry with himself for thinking what he had. "I didn't know."

"And so what if we all thought you were dead?" Marron ploughed on mercilessly. "That wouldn't have mattered if you just came the hell back! Goku would have his best friend back, Gohan would have his godfather back and," she choked, "I... and I would have had my father back."

Kuririn did not know if she realized that her mask was gone. He only let an onslaught of tears run down his face with any hindrance - tears of grief, shame, and self-loathing.

"Forgive me Marron," said Kuririn, bowing his head. "Forgive me."

Marron let out what sounded like a strangled sob and flopped into the couch she was sitting on. Kuririn, opposite her, leaned back as well. No words were spoken.

Then, "Why did you come back?"

"Because I realized that I was wrong." His voice was surprisingly steady - a little congested but steady nonetheless.

"And how did you come to that realization?"

"Pan helped me realize."

"And how did she help you realize?" Her voice was starting to break, contrasting to Kuririn's increasingly balanced one.

Kuririn did not answer for so long that Marron thought he might have fallen asleep. She looked up to see him fixated on the wall, as if contemplating how to tell her whatever he needed to tell.

And again, no punches were pulled, no falls broken. "She got down on her knees. She was going to beg. And she would have done it too if I hadn't changed my mind earlier."

And for the first time in years, Marron let the tears flow.

* * *

There was a photograph. It sat on a bedside table.

Two people were depicted in the picture - a young woman with a pure grin of happiness, a young man standing alongside her, looking equally blissful.

A hand reached for the photo and curled around the frame as she examined the paused memory. Something cold and wet fell onto the glass. And then another.

She wept; she wept hard, because a good man, a man she had loved and still did, had been taken away from her.

Nothing. There was nothing she could do about it. But oh how she wished she could; how she wished that she could turn back time and pluck him from the grasp of death.

But such a feat was impossible.

Wasn't it?

* * *

 _ **A/N: If this story had arcs then this would be definitely the first. The woman at the end will be playing a part in this 'story arc', before we get to jump back into the past. But just who is this woman? Do the Z Senshi know her?**_

 _ **Reviews are appreciated! This story isn't over until I declare it is over. Yes, I know I haven't updated for 2 weeks but... yeah.**_

 _ **xx Strawberry~**_


	9. Vegeta vs West City Mall Part 1

**_A/N: Eyy! Let me start things off by saying that I don't have a particular update schedule. I update this story normally between 1-2 weeks, depending on how busy I am._**

 ** _Next, this is obviously not chapter 9 if you can't already tell from the title. It's only been a day or two since I updated, so I decided to put this little treat in for the (very few) readers I have and for myself._**

 ** _Readers will probably have noticed that Super isn't canon in The Sun will rise again. GT did not happen either. But... WHAT IF IT DID?_**

 ** _This will just be a little one shot set during the time where Bulma is pregnant with Bra. I don't think the timeline of Super is ever addressed too much so I suppose that it's going to be at least 2 years since Boo's defeat. Trunks is 10 years old and Goten is 9 years old. Marron won't be featured in this one shot but she's 5._**

 ** _This one shot does involve coarse language and will be rated M because of it. Viewer discretion is advised. I mean come on, this is Vegeta we're talking about. He's got a mouth as foul as his temper, no doubt._**

 ** _So the synopsis..._**

 ** _A very irate-from-pregnancy-hormones Bulma forces Vegeta to travel to West City Mall to pick up a very expensive face cream for her, threatening to take away his precious Gravity Room and a month on the couch if he doesn't obey. At the same time, she asks Trunks to 'look after' his father by tagging along and making sure he doesn't kill anyone. Naturally, this means a free ticket to the park for Trunks. They could have just picked up the cream, gone to the park and left, but of course things never work out as planned..._**

"VEGETAAA!"

The Prince of all Saiyans swore loudly as his wife screamed. She was 5 months into her pregnancy and Vegeta had to admit he'd never been more scared of anything in his life.

"Freeza, Cell, Boo, pah!" spat the Prince as he exited the Gravity Room. "Nothing but bugs when it comes to the woman... literally in Cell's case."

He met Bulma in the gigantic living room in their living quarters. "What do you want, woman?"

The stare Bulma gave him was unnerving. "Vegeta, _honey,"_ she said sweetly, holding a plastic tin in her hand. "Do you know what this is?"

"No. Should I?"

"This is my face cream," said Bulma, pausing to giggle in an unsettling manner. She unscrewed the lid and showed him the empty interior. "Humans don't age as gracefully as you saiyans, you know." Her calm visage twisted into a hideous glare and she threw the tin at Vegeta. It bounced off his head harmlessly. "WHY ARE YOU STILL STANDING THERE VEGETA?!"

"Kami, woman, just what do you want from me!"

"DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME IN THAT MANNER!"

"I AM THE PRINCE OF ALL SAIYANS, I SHALL SPEAK TO YOU IN ANY WAY I WANT - !"

 _Smack!_

Vegeta paused his rant when Bulma struck him across the face.

And then a twisted sob exited Bulma's throat as she started weeping spontaneously.

"Alright, woman," Vegeta bit out. "Don't cry..." _How do I make her stop?!_ He tried rubbing comforting circles on her back but it only seemed to make her cry harder.

Fortunately for the saiyan, Bulma soon dried her tears. "I'm sorry Vegeta... I don't know what got over me." She picked up her empty container from the carpet. "But please, Vegeta, could you head to West City Mall to get me a new one? They sell it at _Perfection_ on the top floor."

Vegeta snorted when she mentioned the shop. _Sounds like something a tightass like Cell would work at._

"Mom? Dad?"

Trunks and Goten stood not too far away, lingering by the door frame. Trunks held up a broken gaming console, controllers, monitors, screens and all. "Me and Goten got a teensy bit excited..."

"Not again," sighed Bulma, her bottom lip wobbling.

Vegeta had never prayed so hard to Dende in his life as he willed his wife not to start crying again. She didn't and he sighed in relief.

"Your father can go pick up a new one at West City Mall," said Bulma, and Vegeta realized that he had never agreed to going in the first place. He scowled but let Bulma continue. "Kami knows he can't behave himself... please look after him, Trunks. Don't let him kill or threaten anyone, especially the former! I am not in the mood to go dragon ball hunting to reverse the damage!"

"Right, mom!" said Trunks, grinning in excitement. "But on one condition." Trunks knew he was stepping on thin ice here but it was worth the risk. "Can dad take me to the park afterward?"

"I suppose," said Bulma, cutting off Vegeta's protest. "As long as you and your father behave himself. And Goten too if he wants to go."

"Yay!" Goten cheered. "I haven't been the park in ages! Mom's been making me study harder than ever."

Vegeta sighed in resignation. "Come on, brats."

"Nuh uh!" snapped Bulma, pointing an accusing finger at her husband. "You - take a shower right now! Dende can probably smell you from here!"

 _And Dende can probably hear you from down here too with that infernal screeching,_ thought Vegeta, though he didn't dare voice his opinion.

* * *

On the Lookout, Dende sneezed. "Must be the cold air up here..."

* * *

When Vegeta went to shower and Bulma returned to her television show, Goten pulled Trunks aside.

"I dunno if I should go," admitted Goten. "I don't think my mom would be very happy if I went out with your dad. You know she still thinks he's a psychopath."

"Dad _is_ a psychopath," said Trunks. "But that's not stopping me, is it?" He ruffled the younger saiyan's hair. "Come on! Don't be such a baby."

"I'm not a baby," said Goten, defensively. "I just don't want to get my mom mad. She's real scary when she's mad."

"She's just a human," Trunks, who had never seen Chi Chi fly into her fieriest rage, shot back. "How scary can a human be?"

"I guess..." muttered Goten, still not entirely convinced.

Just then, Vegeta appeared by the door frame, dressed and ready to go. "Hurry up, brats, I don't have all day."

"Too late now," snickered Trunks, grabbing Goten by the hand and dragging him to the door. "Hey, don't pout. I'll give you one of my toys if you go."

Goten's face brightened but then fell flat again. "Yeah right. That's what you said last time, and the time before that and the time before time before that!"

"You're learning."

Goten merely huffed.

"Wait boys!" Bulma said, walking up to them while cradling her large belly. "I do _not_ want you to fly to the mall." She tossed them a capsule. "You are driving like normal people or I will cut you off video games, the gravity room and sex for Kami knows how long!"

"You wouldn't," growled Vegeta, his eye twitching.

"Oh I so would!"

"But mom! Alien Hunter 3 comes out next week!" Trunks added.

"Trunks, what's sex?" asked Goten, blinking in confusion.

"Ask your brother but not your mother," Bulma answered for Trunks, unfazed by mentioning the forbidden in front of the child. "Now go! And go get me some ice cream while you're at it."

So to the dismay of the saiyans, they were forced to drive through West City's congested roads.

"Goddammit!" Vegeta raged after half an hour. "Slow piece of shit!" He poked his head out of the window. "Hurry the hell up before I blast you all to oblivion!"

The only response he got was louder honking.

"Patience, dad," said Trunks, tutting. "You don't want me to tell mom about this."

"Say a word to your mother about this and I promise what I will do to you will be beyond even the dragon's power to fix."

Trunks wisely shut up, glaring at Goten when he let out a muffled giggle.

After a shit ton of yelling and threatening by Vegeta and two traffic tickets from a scandalized policeman, they finally made it to West City Mall. However, Vegeta's temper was further inflamed when they couldn't find any parking.

"Just capsulize it, dad," suggested Trunks, not wanting his father to blow up everything in sight.

"I'm not carrying this piece of shit around all day, no matter how small."

It was high noon when everyone spotted a single parking spot at one time. "There!" they all shouted and Vegeta slammed his foot on the accelerator.

Suddenly, a car, the latest model of Capsule Corp Cars, cut them off and violently skidded into the parking space.

"Fuck!" screamed Vegeta. "How dare they! How dare they cut off the Prince of All Saiyans!"

"Here we go," muttered Trunks and Goten let out a scared whimper.

Vegeta got out of the car and slammed the door shut - at least it would have looked like it was slamming shut from a human's perspective. If Vegeta had used his full strength, the car - along with the boys still inside - would have flown into kingdom come.

A young, brazen couple got out of sleek convertible, their pierced eyebrows raised.

"I demand you move your clownish car this instant," Vegeta said flatly.

The boyfriend sneered at him. "Don't talk down to me like that, _shorty_." He whipped out a pocket knife. "Or I'll make you regret it."

Vegeta grabbed the blade between his fingers and snapped it like a twig.

But the idiotic man was unfazed and instead passed it off as 'old and weakened' before asking his girlfriend for another dagger.

"Now where were we," said the man, professionally twirling the knife in his hand.

"I think I know," purred his girlfriend. "This is the part where you beat the living shit out of him, Johnny."

"Why thank you, Shauna, that's exactly what I was thinking."

"Actually," said Vegeta, speaking once more. "I believe this is the part where I blow your car up into next week."

"Wha - " started Johnny before the couple's convertible exploded from Vegeta's chi concentrated stare.

Shauna screamed and ducked for cover, but flying debris bowled her over.

"You son of a bitch!" snapped Johnny, lunging at Vegeta with the knife.

The saiyan didn't dodge and Johnny smiled triumphantly when it appeared that the blade had hit its mark, embedded inside Vegeta's chest cavity. "How's that feel, bastard?"

"Moron," was all Vegeta said before he stepped backward, revealing that the knife had not sunk inside him at all but had broken on impact.

Johnny's face fell.

"Say goodnight, fucker."

And Johnny was evaporated by a chi blast.

"Dad!" Trunks cried, coming out of the car with his arms crossed. "Mom said not to kill anyone!"

"Too bad. It's not like anyone will miss him."

Trunks pointed to the unconscious girlfriend of the deceased.

"She's better off without him," Vegeta said flippantly. He smiled, a cruel, wicked thing before molding his expression back into its standard glare. "Now let's go and get that confounded face cream for your mother."

"And the ice cream" Trunks added helpfully.

"That too, yes."

* * *

Gohan answered the door, curious to who would be knocking. He smiled when he saw his mother on the other side of the door. "Hey mom. Come on in."

"Thank you dear," said Chi Chi, "but I'm only here to pick up Goten."

Gohan tilted his head in a quizzical manner. "Goten? But Goten isn't here."

Now it was Chi Chi's turn to be perplexed. "What are you talking about Gohan? He told me that he was going to play with little Pan today!" Her face formed into a glare and Gohan was not ashamed to admit that it scared him. "Of course," she hissed angrily. "He's off to play with that Trunks again! Trunks is such a bad influence on my little Goten... why I bet it was him who taught my baby to lie!"

"Uh, mom..."

"But I will find them! I will find them and then..." her eyes flared. "There will be hell to pay."

Gohan gulped. "Umm, I think I hear Videl calling for me. I'd better go and check on her; see ya, bye!" And he closed the door in her face, knowing that Chi Chi would be too angry at Goten to care.

* * *

"What was that store again?" Vegeta wondered. "Something about Cell I believe it was..." He looked at the boys for any idea but they merely shrugged. "Well whatever then," said Vegeta. "We'll just buy normal face cream. The woman won't notice the difference."

At that moment, the pay phone nearby started ringing. People stared at it but no one bothered to answer. Finally, in a non violent effort to stop the ringing, Vegeta picked up and gruffly said, "Call this number again and I will kill you and your family."

"VEGETAAA!"

Everyone within immediate vicinity of the phone winced as Bulma's voice blasted through the speakers. "I HOPE YOU AREN'T PLANNING TO BUY ME ANY CHEAP FACE CREAM FROM WALMART VEGETA. I KNOW HOW YOUR MIND WORKS! WE HAVE ENOUGH MONEY AS IT IS SO GO SPEND IT YOU BLOODY CHEAPSKATE!"

The phone hung up and everybody returned to their business.

"Well that's out of the question then," Vegeta said heavily, gritting his teeth. "For all her words, she could have at least mentioned the fucking store."

Just then, Goten and Trunks' bellies grumbled. They grinned up at Vegeta, who rolled his eyes. "Very well. Be grateful that I too am famished."

"Yaay!" cheered the younger saiyans, hauling ass for the food court, Vegeta at their heels.

200 burgers and kiddie meals later, they were satisfied. The people around pointedly expressed their disgust, only to have Vegeta threatening their lives.

"I need to go to the bathroom Mr Vegeta," said Goten when exited the food court. He started jiggling on his feet. "Pleeaaseee!"

"No," Vegeta flat out refused.

Goten pouted but ceased his ridiculous movement.

The store the face cream was supposedly sold at was at the top floor, Vegeta remembered. He just didn't know which, but it couldn't be too hard, could it? He didn't know how hard it could be. And not just the searching of the store...

"Dad," said Trunks when Vegeta levitated a few feet off the ground, about to fly up to the top floor. "Mom said no weird stuff, which probably means flying too."

Vegeta glared at his son but considered the wisdom in his words. "Very well. We shall take the inferior lifting-box instead."

"It's called an elevator, dad."

Vegeta made a point to ignore him as he strode over to the elevator tube in the very center of the mall, the boys trailing behind him. There was at least a dozen people waiting, and most of them were incredibly fat. Vegeta eyed them with suspicion, as if a large amount of fat people warranted his intensive scrutiny. One fat guy was sweating bullets from the hardened glare of the diminutive man and tried very hard to avoid his gaze.

The lift opened and a cluster of people emerged from it. The space was big but the people were even bigger. Vegeta started to get uncomfortable thinking of the lack of breathing space he would have if he were to share the lift with all the fat people.

Apparently, all the fat people seemed to be thinking the same thing as no one entered. Thinking that they were waiting for the next lift, Vegeta dragged the boys inside the lift. He had never regretted anything to such a high degree when the fat people all stepped in, moving as if they were one entity, and squishing their flabby, sticky-with-sweat bodies against the saiyans.

The door closed and the little oxygen they had left seemed to seep away. Vegeta choked but the sound was deafened by a very loud fart.

"Pee-yew!" hissed Trunks, holding his nose.

The lift had hardly made it up a meter before it suddenly jerked to a halt. And it did not move again.

Vegeta howled an unearthly noise of agony and frustration before falling silent. He was absolutely speechless. Of all the things to happen! Vegeta had never been driven so hard and so high up a wall before. And he hated every single moment of it.

A whistle-like noise sounded and turned into a loud _blaaaaappp!_

"My bad," said one fat guy and Vegeta decided that he would rather face Freeza, Cell and Boo all at once than be subjected to this mind-wrenching torture.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I'm so mean.**_

 _ **Anyway R &R (if you will)!**_


	10. My dear departed

_**A/N: It's been weeks. Sorry. Anyway this story is still moving on ahead. The Vegeta oneshot will be completed soon enough but for now we return to the main plotline.**_

* * *

"It's been two hours," said Yamcha as he got out of his seat. "Don't you think we should check on them?"

"Give them time," answered Pan, shoving her hands into her pockets. "Trust me, they need it."

The retired baseball star only shrugged and proceeded to pay the bill. Pan rolled her eyes as she watched the receptionist shamelessly flirt with him, even going so far as to 'discreetly' slipping a piece of paper with her phone number on it into his jacket pocket.

"I have never been more ashamed to be part of the human race," Pan snarked when they left the restaurant. "Did you see her face? Ugly slut."

Yamcha raised an eyebrow at her. She was being unusually pissy. She was a feisty character, yes, but there was a difference between being feisty and being a downright bitch. Of course, he didn't dare say as much. He had never found Hercule Satan's obnoxious, grinning face on the _"Strong teeth = strong champ! Use Power Paste!"_ billboard advertisement so interesting before.

"Anyway," said Pan, oblivious to Yamcha's growing discomfort, "I might go for a quick fly and return the time machine I borrowed from Bulma. I just hope she doesn't get mad."

"Borrowed?" parroted Yamcha. "Or stole?"

Pan chuckled. "Depends on how you view it." Then she flew away, becoming a small speck of darkness in the sky within the span of a few seconds.

Yamcha shook his head before walking away. He had an hour before his next meet and greet - a quick, leisurely stroll wouldn't hurt anyone. He was still thinking about Pan's behavior when he accidentally stumbled into the slightly hunched, weary figure of a graying old lady.

"I'm so sorry!" he said, shocked at his own clumsiness. "Are you okay ma'am?"

"Fine, fine," said the woman, lightly dusting off her clothes. She looked up and Yamcha saw that she looked a bit dazed. "Could you tell me where the train station again is, young man?"

"I'll take you myself," said Yamcha, figuring that it was the least he could do for her after nearly bowling her into kingdom come. "It's a bit far from here and I don't want you to get lost. You can call me Yamcha by the way."

"And you may call me Mrs Diddle, Yamcha," replied the old woman, her eyes twinkling with something Yamcha couldn't quite place. "It's very nice to meet you."

"Right back at ya," said Yamcha, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. Though he had outgrown his fear of girls a long time ago, he still found it slightly awkward to talk to women, especially those older than him. They demanded respect and it was respect that he wasn't very sure he knew how to give. Still, he took it upon himself to make small talk with Mrs Diddle as he guided her to the train station. They talked about the weather, Mr Satan, Yamcha's current employment status - basically anything that would make the trip less awkward.

"And then I got fired," Yamcha finished miserably, completely forgetting that Mrs Diddle was not one of his friends but an old lady he had accidentally knocked over in the streets. However, the fact soon returned to his mind when he caught her staring at him with that strange emotion in her irises once again. "Uhh, no disrespect meant, Mrs Diddle, but why do you keep doing that?"

Mrs Diddle did not answer. Instead, she held her gaze with Yamcha, though her eyes were glazed over as if she were seeing something else and not him. Yamcha tapped her lightly on the shoulder and she blinked.

"You spaced out, Mrs Diddle," Yamcha told her, keeping his voice calm and soothing. Perhaps the poor lady had dementia or something. He decided to treat her a bit more gently. "Are you alright?"

"I'm very sorry," said Mrs Diddle. Yamcha waved off her apology but she continued as if she hadn't heard him at all. "You remind me of my husband."

"Really?" said Yamcha with a chuckle. "So he must be pretty young, eh? And handsome?"

"Yes," Mrs Diddle sighed wistfully, "he was."

The inner workings of Yamcha froze and he started mentally berating himself for his insensitivity. _Gaahh! You idiot! Why can't you do anything right? No wonder you're still single!_

"He looked very much like you," continued Mrs Diddle. "What, with the scars and all. He was an army man, you know. Fought very bravely for the country."

 _Gee, where have I heard that from?_ thought Yamcha, thinking of Goku and his services to the earth. The saiyan was so good and kind despite being bred to be a literal killing machine. _So good and kind... and I am so far from it._ Unlike the rest of the Z Senshi, he had halted his training altogether, avoiding any kind of martial arts. Even Kuririn had kept up his training after starting a family. The diminutive man had always complained about enemies appearing at cosmic levels. _"Why don't we just fight with fists and normal, non-lethal chi blasts anymore like we did in the good old days? Is that somehow not cool anymore?"_ he had once said. _  
_

Yamcha was reawakened back into the real world when he saw the train station up ahead. "What happened?" he asked, referring to Mrs Diddle's deceased spouse. "How did he... ya know... croak?" Once again, he mentally slapped himself for his tact - or lack of thereof.

Luckily, Mrs Diddle didn't seem to mind Yamcha's phrasing. "Lost in war, like many other men. He had just wrote to me before his death, saying that he was coming back and that I was to meet him at the train station. I waited the entire day until I received news that the train he was aboard had been bombed by enemy forces." Mrs Diddle lowered her gaze. "They said that there were no survivors. But there was no proof, no nothing. He is alive. I must believe it so, even if everyone tries to convince me otherwise."

 _Is this what it's like to live in a world without dragon balls?_ Yamcha wondered, though he said, "How long has it been?"

"42 years," replied Mrs Diddle, and Yamcha couldn't help but flinch. "I have waited 42 years for him. I don't know what's taking him so long. Doesn't he want to see me again?"

"I-I'm sure he does," stammered Yamcha, not really knowing what to say. Somewhere nearby, a train whistle sounded and caught Mrs Diddle's attention, saving Yamcha from having to say anymore. He sighed and relief and thanked Dende under his breath.

"Thank you very much for walking me here," said Mrs Diddle. "You're a good, brave man."

 _If only..._ Yamcha cleared his throat slightly. "Thank you. And you're a good, brave woman. You will find your husband again one day." _In the afterlife. Lord Yenma be kind to her. She's a good woman, even if a little odd at times._ And she seemed to have a strange identity crisis for lack of a better term in relation to her husband. _She acknowledges his death and then says he's alive? Huh._

* * *

Gods, Kuririn had never known talking to Marron would be like walking on eggshells. He was brewing some herbal tea for the both of them. She had cried for fifteen minutes and he had sat by her, stroking her hair and murmuring comforting words to her. It had been slightly difficult because of his squeaky voice and short, chubby arms but he had pulled it off anyway. He had then found a bullet wound on her arm from the Herculopolis Mall shootings and treated the injury before infection could set in.

Now, Marron sat cross-legged on Kame Sen'nin's couch. It was a great thing that the turtle hermit had not been home that afternoon - he was on a week of vacation with Turtle and their two shapeshifter friends, Oolong and Pu'ar.

"Dad," Marron acknowledged quietly when Kuririn returned with the tea.

"Marron," said Kuririn, his voice heavy.

"I'm sorry," Marron ground out. "For being such a baby."

"Don't you dare apologize. It's okay to let your emotions out. It's what makes you human."

His words sent more tears pricking her eyes. "Yes... Sometimes I forget that. I won't forget it again."

 _"Good._ I love you Marron."

His daughter smiled and his heart jumped in a mixture of shock and joy. "I love you too... Dad." She smiled a bit more cheekily. "Even in your 12 year old body."

"I was quite the lady's man," huffed Kuririn.

Marron eyed him before bursting into a fit of giggles. Kuririn followed suit and the pair just sat on the couch, laughing like there was no tomorrow.

When the laughter finally ceased, Marron said, "I missed you dad. I don't think I ever realized how much."

"I'm here now," said Kuririn. "And you'll never feel helpless again as long as I'm here."

"I certainly hope so, dad. A 12 year old father has a lot of expectations from his 27 year old daughter."

They shared a quick chuckle before moving on to more serious matters. "So do you think you can be reversed to your original state?" asked Marron.

"Probably," said Kuririn. "If the dragon was able to send me back in time, then why not? And if it can't we always have Namek's dragon balls and even Bulma could help." He suddenly sat up. "Bulma! Gah! I completely forgot about the gang! How are they gonna react to... this!" He gestured to his child's body. "I look ridiculous!"

"Dad, I don't think they're gonna care about it too much. I mean, Vegeta might laugh but still."

Kuririn sighed. "I guess you're right. Boy, when I get my adult body back I'm never taking it for granted ever again! Even if I never grew much."

"I'm glad you learned something, dad, even if it's something so trivial." She scrunched up her nose. "I can't imagine myself without boobs."

"I can and sometimes I still wish you were 3 years old and drinking your apple juice at the Tenkaichi Budokai. No boys, no trouble..."

"You do realize that was the same year Majin Boo attacked, right?"

"Aside from all that it was a great year!"

Marron shook her head in mock exasperation and grinned. "I guess. I'm pretty glad Boo's on our side now, even if he can be a bit... kiddy."

The two talked for a bit more before Kuririn addressed the fact that Pan was probably getting antsy. Marron retorted with her usual scathing remarks about Pan before returning to playful jibes - jibes between father and daughter who were rebuilding a bond so fragile and fragmented it might as well have been made from scratch once again. There were more things to think about but right now, they refused to think of anything else but each other. Father had daughter and daughter had father. And neither was willing to let go.

* * *

Mrs Diddle sat on the train bench, staring at the railway tracks, her graying hair glowing shades of red and orange as the sun slowly set and bid goodnight to the world. Then she got up and left, her mind churning as she walked toward her home. For her age, she was quite sharp when it came to certain things. And one thing she knew for sure was that the machine she had seen earlier that day was no drone. The woman was quite a fan of Capsule Corporation and the Briefs family and there were plenty of rumors circulating around them, including those that claimed that Bulma Briefs had discovered time travel. And then the teenager and the child had suddenly appeared along with the sky vehicle in the park.

Seeing Yamcha had sparked a fire that was now burning fiercely within her. The man had looked so much like her husband - he had been a man forged by many hard battles. Mrs Diddle could see that much. Seeing him... The hole in her heart and widened even further and the desire to see her lover once again was staggering. She would see him again. She would make sure of that.

* * *

 ** _A/N: Apologies for such a long delay. I've been consecutively doing assignments and tests plus the standard homework we get set every day and I lost interest in writing since every part of me was devoted into doing the tasks I had been set._**


	11. Fiddle Dee Dee

_**A/N: New chapter. Whoo. ;-;**_

* * *

"NO!" screamed Kuririn. "Don't do it!"

"YOU CAN'T MESS WITH TIME LIKE THIS!" Marron shouted over the roaring wind conjured by the rising time machine.

In the compartment, someone covered her face with her hand in shame. Tears peeked beneath her hand. "Please... just make it stop." The machine started to glow, indicating that it was about to send her far, far away. "My love... I'm coming."

"AFTER HER!" came Pan's voice. The demi-saiyan grabbed onto one of the machine's legs. "Hurry!"

As fast as they could, Marron and Kuririn followed suit. All three of them now hugged the time machine like koala bears. Pan glanced at Yamcha expectantly. The retired baseball star was watching wide-eyed while plastering himself against a brick wall.

"I'm getting too old for this!" Yamcha shouted over the wind. "Go on without me!"

"We'll be better off without him anyway," Marron said scathingly. She glared at Pan. "Though I would much rather have him than you. What you did for me and dad doesn't mean anything after you pulled _this_ stunt! Whatever happens is on your head!"

"Stop fighting!" ordered Kuririn, but his voice was carried away when the machine bellowed and flew back to the allocated time.

Yamcha fell to his knees when the craft disappeared. "Man... I sure live a hectic life. I really am getting too old for this."

* * *

 _ **Hours earlier...**_

It was nearing midnight and time for Mrs Diddle to leave the station and return to her home. She packed up her things and shuffled along in silence, her eyes sad and weary. Inside her old body, sickness churned strong; just two weeks ago the doctor had announced she would have little time left. After that, for days, she had done nothing but waste away in bed, hoping that the disease would claim her in her sleep and hoping that she would see her dear departed once more. For someone of her age, her mind was unusually sharp when unclouded by grief, and she knew what to expect in death. When Cell attacked the town she was staying a short holiday - Ginger .Town, she remembered it was - she had been crushed by debris and killed instantly. That had been the first time. She hadn't yet reached the giant red beast behind the desk yet when she found herself back on earth. The second time was when Majin Boo threatened the earth. In Herculopolis, many people tried to flee but Mrs Diddle had stayed, knowing that she would be dead sooner or later. There was no memory of Majin Boo in her mind, or in anyone else's except for the Z Senshi in fact, but she had died once again. That time she had reached the desk of 'Lord Enma' and been sent to heaven, where she proceeded to look for her lost husband as a wispy soul. The dragon balls revived her before she could find her lover.

Mrs Diddle had only walked until the ticket booth when a dark figure swooped through the skies and landed nearby. The old woman froze. Would this be the death of her? Whatever it'd been, it had looked like a giant bat to her. The old woman had little to no fear of death, so she opted to investigate instead of fleeing. Putting on a neutral mask, Mrs Diddle went back to the bench she had been sitting on moments ago, the place where she saw the thing land.

"Hello?"called Mrs Diddle. "Who is out there? Come out at once, please."

And then the form of Son Pan came into view.

* * *

She didn't know why, but Pan had been fuming when she saw the receptionist flirt with Yamcha. It wasn't as if she had any romantic interests in her father's friend - far from it in fact - but seeing the slut, as Pan had deemed her to be, made a vicious, malevolent flame burn within her. That wasn't the only incident where she had gotten, for lack of a better term, moody about small, trivial matters. The first time had been when Marron brushed her off after Kuririn's disappearance. It was only through constantly reminding herself that Marron had lost someone important to her that had kept the young saiyan from lashing out. Another incident occurred when Bra Briefs initially denied Pan from the prospect of stealing Bulma's time machine. This time, Pan had snapped, and not very kindly. A shouting match had ensued and nearly escalated to a fist fight but was thankfully resolved when Bra decided to apologize and pull some strings for her friend.

When she had seen Yamcha grow uncomfortable in her presence, she left the poor man alone, not wanting to cause anymore hurt. But the decision had angered her greatly and she had nearly blasted off her beloved grandfather's admittedly unsavory visage off the _"Strong teeth = strong champ!"_ billboard advertisement.

She had spent the rest of the day flying around until she found herself at Herculopolis Train Station. Pan had just started to enjoy the peace and quiet when she noticed a small chi signature nearby. Then Mrs Diddle appeared and Pan knew she had to confront the woman.

Mrs Diddle blinked at her curiously. "Why are you here? It's very late." Obviously, the old woman didn't recognize Pan as the girl from the park.

"Don't get your bun in a twist," Pan snorted before she could stop herself. "And anyway, you're here, aren't you?"

The old woman raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I have reason to be here. Do you?"

"Yes," Pan lied. She walked in a lazy circle before sitting down on the bench. "What's your reason, if I may ask?"

"You descend from the heavens like it's a small feat and then have the gall to demand answers from me? Give me your reason first, and I might consider giving you mine."

Pan smirked. The woman was sharper than the saiyan had given her credit for. Weren't all old women supposed to be senile? At first, Pan considered telling the truth of her aimless wandering but then decided on a different, seemingly more familiar option. One other lie wouldn't hurt. After meeting Gohan's old friend Lime, Pan had picked up lying from the red-haired woman, who still did it on a daily basis. Videl had given her daughter a lecture about lying afterward, but Pan had never forgotten Lime's clever, sneaky words and pretty lies. When she asked her father about it, he had laughed and said that she had been even worse when they were children. After that, Pan decided that she wished she had been born during that time. Hanging out with a young Lime seemed like an awfully exciting prospect.

"I'm bored," Pan said - it was the partial truth. Then, realizing she sounded like a child, she added, "It seemed like a good night for a fly. Surely you have to agree."

"I do," replied Mrs Diddle, keeping her face guarded. But alas, her mind, in spite of its sharpness, was ailing similarly like the rest of her old body, and she let slip, "John would have loved it."

Pan's eyes lit up at the slip-up and grew hungry as she watched Mrs Diddle's resolve crumble right in front of her. She tilted her head - a purely feline movement - and said softly, "I don't mean to pry... but who? I'm curious."

Dark orbs gleaming with moonlight assessed the demi-saiyan with scary precision; a small flame that seemed out of place burned in her irises.

And then her story was revealed.

* * *

The clock struck one when Kuririn and Marron realized just how late it was.

"It's been a long day," said Kuririn, stretching. "I'm gonna hit the hay. I'm sure Muten Roshi won't mind if I sleep here for tonight. What about you Mar? Are you heading home?"

"Yeah," Marron yawned. "If I fly fast it'll be quick. I would stay but I sleep better when I'm in my own space."

"Of course. Then... see you tomorrow?" His voice was tentative.

"Sure."

When Marron left, Kuririn smiled. _It can get better... we just have to learn how to trust one another again._

* * *

Marron jumped when she entered the lobby and found Yamcha loitering around. She recovered herself and cleared her throat, gaining his attention. "What are you doing here? Don't you have ladies to be shagging?"

"Shagging? What are you, a Brit?" Yamcha shot back. "Anyway, I came here to talk to you."

The young blonde sighed. "Oh great. Are you gonna ask me how the talk went? I am not in the mood right now. It's 1 o'clock in the freakin' morning and I'm working tomorrow. I shouldn't have stayed up so late to begin with so if you excuse me, I'm going."

Yamcha moved forward and stopped in front of her. "Sorry, but this is kind of urgent. I was gonna ask you about, uh, you know, but since you obviously don't want to talk about that - "

"I don't want to talk at all," Marron interrupted, sidestepping around him.

"It's about Pan, Marron."

Marron paused momentarily before walking toward the staircase that led to her floor. Then, while cursing her curiosity, she turned around and said, "What about Pan? Did she break something?"

"Well, not exactly. But I thought you might want to know. It could be considered pretty important."

Marron rolled her eyes. "Wow, big words. Don't hurt yourself. Just get to the point already."

"Pan's acting like Vegeta."

"Awesome! Wow! Big surprise. She trains with him every chance she gets. Which, admittedly, is very few since Vegeta's always so intent on sparring Goku."

"That's not what I mean! She's acting like Vegeta when he was still... purging planets. Like a saiyan."

Marron shrugged dismissively. "So what? She is part saiyan after all. You act like it's a shocker."

Yamcha was about to retort when the fluctuation of a familiar chi caught their attention. The signal was distressed and frustrated, with sent alarm bells ringing.

"Pan," Marron said gravely. "Speak of the devil. What on earth has she done this time?"

* * *

Kuririn had just finished brushing his teeth and was about to change out of his clothes to shower when the sensation of a flaring chi made him stop what he was doing and drop his toothbrush into the sink. Without a second to spare, he dashed out of the house and flew off into the distance. "This cannot be good..."

* * *

 _ **A/N: ASDFGHJKL. I know I said my update schedule was 1 chapter every 1 or 2 weeks, but obviously that's gonna be changing. A combination of real life getting in the way and sheer laziness has delayed this. I actually had most of it done after posting chapter 10 but yeah...**_


End file.
